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THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 



THE VALLEY OF 
SHADOWS 

RECOLLECTIONS OF THE LINCOLN 
COUNTRY 1858-1863 

BY 

FRANCIS GRIERSON 

AUTHOR OF "MODERN MYSTICISM" 
AND " THE CELTIC TEMPERAMENT " 




BOSTON AND NEW YORK 

HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 

(€bc RJtjerjjiDe preistf CambriDge 

1909 






COPYRIGHT, 1909, BY HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 



Il!C;1'\RY of congress 

APR 12 \^0^ 

' Ociiyi'ii."* ■-'■'try - 
i r.l >ss C^ ^'^'^- ^''' 



PREFACE 

This book is not a novel, but the recollections of 
scenes and episodes of my early life in Illinois and 
Missouri, the writing of which has been a labour of 
love. A cosmopolitan life in the different capitals of 
Europe during a period of forty years has not sufficed 
to alienate the romance and memory of those wonderful 
times. 

In looking back I have come to the conclusion that 
the power displayed by the most influential preachers 
and politicians of the ante-helium days in Illinois was 
a power emanating from the spiritual side of life, and 
I have done my best to depict the " silences " that 
belonged to the prairies, for out of those silences came 
the voices of preacher and prophet and a host of 
workers and heroes in the great War of Secession. 

In 1863 President Lincoln issued his famous pro- 
clamation for the emancipation of the slaves, and with 
it the old order passed away never to return. Indeed, 
the social upheaval of that year was greater than that 
produced by the Declaration of Independence in 1776, 
and no matter what happens now, the old political and 
social conditions can never be revived. Not only have 
the people changed, but the whole face of the nation 
has changed — the prairies are gone, and luxurious 



vi PREFACE 

homes are to be found in the places where log-houses, 
primitive woods, and wild flowers were the only- 
prominent features of the landscape for many miles 
together. 

I have recorded my impressions of the passing of 
the old democracy and the old social system in the 
United States, and, curiously enough, I witnessed 
again in 1869-70, while residing in Paris, the passing 
of another social order — that of Napoleon and the 
Empire, the recollections of which I shall leave for a 
future volume. 

F. G. 

Mill House, 
Radclive, 

Buckingham. 

Jamiary, 1909. 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER 



PROEM 

I. THE MEETINO-HOUSK 

II. THE LOAD-BEARER .... 

III. THE LOG-HOUSK .... 

IV. SOCRATES orVRS ADVICE . 

V. SILAS Jordan's illness , 

VI. the cabin of SOCRATES . 

Vll. AT THE POST-OFFTCE 

VIII. MY VISIT TO THE LOAD-BEARER's HOME 

IX. A NIGHT OF MYSTERY 

X, SOWING AND REAPING 

XI. THE FLIGHT 

XII. THE CAMP-MEETING .... 

XIII. THE PIONEER OF THE SANGAMON COUNTRY 

XIV. THE REGULATORS .... 
XV. ALTON AND THE MISSISSIPPI 

XVI. ABRAHAM LINCOLN .... 

xvn. ST. LOUIS : society and the churches 

XVIII. THE GREAT FAIR .... 

XIX. THE planters' HOUSE 

XX. THE TORCH-LIGHT PROCESSION 



VACK 
1 



20 

32 

41 

53 

60 

78 

85 

99 

107 

118 

134 

154 

170 

187 

195 

202 

212 

215 

222 



viii CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAOE 

XXI. CAMP JACKSON 227 

XXII. GENEKAL FREMONT ... .... 233 

XXIII. THE DANCE OF DEATH 240 

XXIV. IN THE MAZE ... 2.52 

XXV. grierson's raid 262 

XXVI. THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 268 



PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN 
EDITION 

On presenting to the American public this vivid record 
of a remarkable epoch in our history, the publishers have 
thought that some account of the author might not be out 
of place. Indeed the recollections contained in the follow- 
ing pages, interesting as they are in themselves, take, from 
the unusual and romantic career of the writer, an added 
import and significance. 

Francis Grierson was born in Cheshire, England, Septem- 
ber 18, 1848, and his parents emigrated to Illinois in March, 
1849, to join relatives already settled in that state. He is a 
cousin of General B. H. Grierson, and a direct descendant 
of Robert Grierson, the " Redgauntlet " of Scott's famous 
novel. His father became an American citizen, helped to 
elect Lincoln, and returned to England in 1871. The boy, 
who early developed a remarkable musical gift, preceded his 
father in his return, was introduced to the social and artistic 
world of Paris in the late sixties by Alexandre Dumas, the 
author of " Monte Cristo," and soon became acquainted with 
the social, artistic, and political leaders of the times. With- 
out money, without letters of introduction, without aid 
from any one, he became the musical celebrity of the day. 
Up to this time Chopin had been regarded as the last word 
in the domain of musical inspiration and the magical art of 



vi PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION 

improvisation. The new prodigy evoked not only the char- 
acteristics of past musical epochs, but the musical soul of 
ancient Egypt, Assyria, Palestine, and Greece. He would 
pass from a suave melody of the Italian school, or from a 
symphonic movement of the German, to a languid melody 
of the East, the pomp or melancholy of Nineveh or Babylon. 
And it is said that at certain wonderful moments, he could 
add the strangest, most inexplicable voice, that did not fol- 
low the music but went along with it, almost independent of 
it, rising up from out the middle chords of the piano, faintly 
at first, and at last filling the room with indescribable and 
thrilling tones. The sensations produced were all the more 
profound because the playing was so spontaneous on the 
part of the performer. Improvisation was the real key to 
the power. The performer himself never knew what would 
or could be done. The music came with the charm of some- 
thing unlocked for, and absolutely new. 

Such gifts were never intended for the public, and Mr. 
Grierson restricted his performances to the mansions of cul- 
tured people and the salons of musical leaders. Yet he made 
some exceptions, consenting once in a while to sing in some 
great church or cathedral. He sang by special invitation in 
Saint-Eustache and in the great Basilica of Montmartre, 
in Paris, and was urged by Leon Gastinelle, the composer 
of sacred music, to sing the principal solos in his new mass 
to be given in Notre Dame, with full orchestra and chorus, 
at the fete of the Annunciation on the 25th of March, 1870. 
From Paris he went to London, where he met with a repe- 
tition of his Paris triumphs. When the season closed he 
accepted an invitation to visit Baden, then the leading 



PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION vii 

gambling centre of Europe, and the most fashionable of all 
watering places. The Bishop of Baden warmly pressed him 
to sing in the Cathedral at High Mass. Here he achieved an 
unheard-of triumph ; he sang and played the great organ 
at the same time. In St. Petersburg the young artist passed 
some time as a guest at the Imperial Palace of Gatschina. 
After remaining one year in Russia, he returned to Paris, 
after which he again visited London. He then went to 
Berlin, where his success surpassed that of any virtuoso 
who had appeared in the German capital, and from Berlin 
he was invited by King Albert of Saxony, the soldier- 
musician, to dedicate the Queen's new music-room in the 
Strelitz Palace. 

But his most striking success was achieved during his 
farewell visit to Paris, when the effect produced on the 
minds of those who heard him at that time surpassed any- 
thing ever experienced in the French capital. Lectures 
were given to explain, from a theosophical point of view, 
how one person, ignorant of the science of music, and with- 
out musical instruction, could produce such a variety of 
musical styles, startling effects, unheard-of combinations 
of tone and harmony. Sully Prudhomme declared that he 
could not find words in the French dictionary to express 
the sentiments awakened in him by such a marvellous 
performance, and Stephane Mallarme declared that here 
was a prodigy who did with musical sounds, combinations, 
and melodies what Poe did with the rhythm of words, and 
that "for the first time in the history of music we now 
have the real poet of the piano." 

Mr. Grierson gave up music in the midst of his greatest 



viii PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION 

triumphs ' ' to get down, ' ' as he said, ' ' to serious work. ' ' He 
had been waiting patiently for the time to come when he 
could give up amusing the world and begin to write some 
of the sentiments, opinions, judgments which he had long 
been hoarding up in silence. His musical career had been 
but a schooling for the art of writing. It had been, indeed, as 
Alexandre Dumas had hinted, a sort of magical power, not 
only for the opening of doors in the social world, but the 
opening of the doors of knowledge, the doors of fact as 
opposed to illusion, reality as opposed to dreams and theo- 
ries. He decided to make the long-contemplated plunge 
into the sea of literature. He chose Paris for the experi- 
ment, and French as the medium for his thought. The 
volume was composed of critical essays, and after its ap- 
pearance its author was hailed by academicians and criti- 
cal writers as a prose writer of the first order. 

Mr. Grierson's two volumes of essays in English — 
"Modern Mysticism" and "The Celtic Temperament," 
issued from Ruskin House — brought him immediate re- 
cognition, not only as an original stylist but as a thinker 
of the school of Maeterlinck. The present volume, a ven- 
ture in a new field, will, it is hoped, win him many new 
friends among American readers. 



THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 



PROEM 

In the late 'fifties the people of Illinois were being 
prepared for the new era by a series of scenes and 
incidents which nothing but the term " mystical " will 
fittingly describe. 

Things came about not so much by preconceived 
method as by an impelling impulse. The appearance 
of " Uncle Tom's Cabin " was not a reason, but an 
illumination ; the founding of the Republican party 
was not an act of political wire - pulling, but an 
inspiration ; the great religious revivals and the 
appearance of two comets were not regarded as 
coincidences, but accepted as signs of divine prepara- 
tion and warning. 

The settlers were hard at work with axe and plough ; 
yet, in spite of material pre-occupation, all felt the 
unnameable influence of unfolding destiny. The social 
cycle, which began with the Declaration of Inde- 
pendence, was drawing to a close, and during 
Buchanan's administration the collective consciousness 
of men — that wonderful prescience of the national 
soul — became aware of impending innovation and 
upheaval. 

It was impossible to tell what a day might bring 
forth. The morning usually began with new hope 

v.s. B 



2 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

and courage; but the evening brought back the old 
silences, with the old, unsolved questionings, strange 
presentiments, premonitions, sudden alarms. Yet 
over and around all a kind of sub-conscious humour 
welled up, which kept the mind hopeful while the 
heart was weary. Dressed in butter-nut jeans, and 
swinging idly on a gate, many a youth of the time 
might have been pointed out as a likely senator, poet, 
general, ambassador, or even president. Never was 
there more romance in a new country. A great 
change was coming over the people of the West. 
They retained all the best characteristics of the 
Puritans and the settlers of Maryland and Virginia, 
with something strangely original and characteristic 
of the time and place, something biblical applied to 
the circumstances of the hour. 

Swiftly and silently came the mighty influences. 
Thousands laboured on in silence ; thousands were 
acting under an imperative, spiritual impulse without 
knowing it ; the whole country round about Spring- 
field was being illuminated by the genius of one man, 
whose influence penetrated all hearts, creeds, parties, 
and institutions. 

People were attracted to this region from Kentucky, 
Missouri, Indiana, the shores of the Ohio, the British 
Isles, France, and Germany. Other States had their 
special attractions : Indiana, Kentucky, and Missouri 
contained hills and forests, appealing to the eye by a 
large and generous variation of landscape ; Iowa and 
Kansas sloped upward toward the West, giving to the 
mind an ever-increasing sense of hope and power. 
To many, Illinois seemed the last and the least because 
the most level. Only a poet could feel the charm of 



PROEM 3 

her prairies, only a far-seeing statesman could predict 
her future greatness. 

The prairie was a region of expectant watchfulness, 
and life a perpetual contrast of work and idleness, 
hope, and misgiving. Across its bosom came the 
covered wagons with their human freight, arriving 
or departing like ships between the shores of strange, 
mysterious worlds. 

The early Jesuit missionaries often spoke of the 
Illinois praii'ie as a sea of grass and flowers. A breeze 
springs up from the shores of old Kentucky, or from 
across the Mississippi and the plains of Kansas, 
gathering force as the hours steal on, gradually 
changing the aspect of Nature by an undulating 
motion of the grass, until the breeze has become a 
gale, and behold the prairie a rolling sea ! The 
pennant-like blades dip before the storm in low, 
rushing billows as of myriads of green birds skim- 
ming the surface. The grassy blades bend to the 
rhythm of Nature's music, and when clouds begin 
to fleck the far horizon with dim, shifting vapours, 
shadows as of long grey wings, swoop down over the 
prairie, while here and there immense fleeting veils 
rise and fall and sweep on towards the sky-line in 
a vague world of mystery and illusion. 

The prairies possessed a charm created by beauty 
instead of awe ; for besides the countless wild flowers, 
they had rivers, creeks, lakes, groves, and wooded 
strips of country bordering the larger streams. 

Everywhere, even in the most desolate places, at all 
times and seasons, signs of life were manifest in the 
traces, flights, and sounds of animals and birds. Over 
the snow, when all seemed obliterated, appeared the 

B 2 



4 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

track of the mink, fox, and chick-a-dee, while during 
the greater part of the year the grass, woods, and air 
were alive with winged creatures that came and went 
in a perpetual chorus of audible or inaudible song. 

The prairie was an inspiration, the humble settlers 
an ever-increasing revelation of human patience and 
progress. There was a charm in their mode of living, 
and real romance in all the incidents and events of 
that wonderful time. 



CHAPTEE I 

THE MEETING-HOUSE 

All through the winter the meeting-house on Saul's 
Prairie had stood deserted and dormant, its windows 
rattling in the bleak winds, perhaps longing for the 
coming revivals and the living, vital sympathy of 
beings '' clothed in garments divine " ; but now, how 
different it looked on this wonderful Sunday morning, 
with its door and windows wide open, the flowers in 
bloom, and the birds perched on the tallest weeds 
pouring forth their song ! The fleckless sky, and soft, 
genial atmosphere had made of the desolate little 
meeting-house and its surroundings a place that 
resembled a second Garden of Eden. 

How calm and beautiful was the face of Nature ! 
The prairie here in Illinois, in the heart of Lincoln's 
country, had a spirit of its own, unlike that of the 
forest, and I had come to look upon the meeting- 
house as a place possessing a sort of soul, a per- 
sonality which made it stand out in my imagination as 
being unique among all the meeting-houses I had ever 
seen. It must, I thought, feel the states of the 
weather and the moods of the people. 

The settlers made their way to meeting in wagons, 
on horseback and on foot ; and for nearly an hour 
people straggled in. They came in family groups, 
and a moment of excitement would be followed by a 
period of impatient waiting. They came from the 



6 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

west, where a faint column of smoke rose in a zig- 
zag in the warm, limpid atmosphere ; from the north, 
where houses and cabins were hidden in groves or in 
hollows ; from the south, where a forest of old oaks 
and elms bordered the horizon with a belt of dark 
green ; and from the east, where the rolling prairie 
spread beyond the limits of vision, a far-reaching vista 
of grass and flowers. 

I had arrived early on my pony. Our neighbours 
would be here, and I should see some of them for the 
first time. 

Silas Jordan and his wife, Kezia, were among the 
first to arrive. He, small, thin, and shrivelled, with 
wiry hair and restless nerves, had a face resembling a 
spider's web ; cross-bars of crow's feet encircled two 
small, ferret-like eyes, sunk deep in their sockets, out 
of which he peered with eager suspicion at the 
moving phenomena of the world. She, with that 
deep glow that belongs to the dusk of certain days in 
autumn, had jet-black hair, smoothed down till it 
covered the tops of her ears ; her neck rose in a 
column from between two drooping shoulders, and her 
great languid eyes looked out on the world and the 
people like stars from a saffron sunset. Dark and 
dreamy, she seemed a living emblem of the tall, dark 
flowers and the willows that bordered the winding 
rivers and creeks of the prairies. 

Then came the Busbys on a horse that " carried 
double," Serena Busby wearing a new pink calico 
dress and sun-bonnet, the colour clashing with her 
reddish hair and freckled face. 

When these had settled in their seats there came 
one of those half- unearthly spells of silence and 



THE MEETING-HOUSE 7 

waiting not unlike those moments at a funeral just 
before the moiu'ners and the minister make their 
appearance. 

I had taken a seat inside for a while, but I slipped 
out again just in time to see a man come loping along 
on a small, shaggy horse, man and animal looking as 
if they had both grown up on the prairie together. 
It was Zack Caverly, nicknamed Socrates. Zack 
was indeed a Socrates of the prairie as well in looks 
as in speech, and the person who first called him after 
the immortal sage had one of those flashes of inspi- 
ration that come now and then to the scholar whose 
cosmopolitan experience permits him to judge men by 
a single phrase or a gesture. He tied his horse to a 
hitching-post, then stood at the door waiting to see 
what new faces would appear at the meeting. Here 
he met his old acquaintance Silas Jordan. 

The talk soon turned to personalities. 

" Have ye heerd who them folks is down yander in 
the Log-House ? " began Silas, alluding to the new 
home of my parents. 

" They air from the old kintry," Socrates answered, 
his round eyes blinking in a manner not to be de- 
scribed. 

" Kinder stuck up for these diggin's, I'm thinkin'.'' 

'' I 'low they ain't like us folks," was the careless 
response. " They hed a heap o' hii-ed help whar they 
come from." 

" The Squar tole me hisself what kyounties he hez 
lived in sence he come from the old kintry. He hez 
lived in two kyounties in Missouri en in four kyounties 
in Illinois, and now I reckon it's root hog or die ez fur 
ez these diggins goes. It's his second trial on prairie 



8 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

land. He 'lows it'll be the last if things don't plough 
up jest ez he's sot his mind te havin' 'em. He's 
a-layin' in with the Abolitionists, and he voted oncet 
fer Abe Lincoln, en he sez he air ready te do it 
agin. 

Socrates looked down the road, and exclaimed : 

" Bless my stars ! if thar ain't Elihu Gest ! He's 
got a stranger with him." 

When Elihu Gest hitched his horse to the fence 
Socrates greeted him : 

" Howdy, howdy, Brother Gest. I war wonderin' 
what hed become o' ye. Ain't seen ye in a coon's 
age." 

Elihu Gest was known as the " Load-Bearer." He 
had earned this nickname by his constant efforts to 
assume other people's mental and spiritual burdens. 
The stranger he brought with him was the preacher. 

" I war jes' wonderin' ez I come along," said the 
Load-Bearer, " what the Know-nothin's en sech like 
air a-goin' te do, seein' ez how Lincoln en Douglas air 
dividin' the hull y earth a-twixt 'em." 

" Providence created the Know-nothin's te fill 
up the chinks," answered Zack Caver ly, "en ye 
know it don't noways matter what ye fill 'em up 
with." 

" I 'low the chinks hez to be filled up somehow," 
replied the Load-Bearer, " en a log-cabin air a mighty 
good place te live in when a man's too pore te live in 
a frame house." 

" Thet's it ; them thar politicioners like Abe Lincoln 
en Steve Douglas hev quit livin' in log-cabins, en 
thar ain't no chinks fer the Know-nothin' party te fill," 
said Socrates. 



THE MEETING-HOUSE 9 

He had taken out a big jack-knife and was whittling 
a stick. 

" 'Pears like thar's allers three kyinds o' every- 
thing — thar war the Whigs, the Demicrats, en the 
Know-nothin's, en thar air three kyinds o' folks all 
over this here kintry — the Methodists, the Hard- 
shells, en them thet's saft at feedin'-time, plumb open 
fer vittles en dead shet agin religion. Ez I war ex- 
plainin' te Squar Briggs t'other day, in the heavings 
thar air the sun, the moon, en the stars ; thet air three 
kyinds agin. En whar hev ye ever see a kivered 
wagin 'thout bosses, creatur's, en yaller dogs ? The 
yaller dogs air steppin'-stones te the bosses, the bosses 
comin' in right betwixt the varmints en human bein's, 
which the Scriptur' sez air jest a leetle below the 
angels. But ye'd never guess 'thout a heap o' cute 
thinkin' thet a yaller dog could make hisself so kinder 
useful like ez wal ez pertickler. Ez fer folks gen'ly, 
thar air tkree kyinds — Yankees, niggers, en white 
people." 

" Ye don't calc'late te reckon niggers ez folks ! " 
ejaculated Silas Jordan. 

"They air folks jes like we air," said the Load- 
Bearer, " en they hev souls te save. They air bein' 
called on, but somehow the slave-owners ain't got no 
ears fer the call." 

"Wal," chimed in Socrates, "I ain't agin th' 
Abolitionists, en up te now I ain't tuck much int'rest 
in the argimints fer en ag'iust. I ain't called on fer te 
jedge noways." He looked about him and continued : 
*' They air talkin' 'bout freein' the niggers, but some o' 
these here settlers ain't got spunk 'nough te choose 
thar partner fer a dance, ner ile 'nough in thar j'ints te 



/ 



10 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

bow in a ladies' chain. Mebbe arter all the niggers 
air a sight better off 'n we uns air. They ain't got 
no stakes in the groun'." 

At this point there was a shuffling of feet and 
spitting. Then his thoughts turned to the past. 

" Afore Buchanan's election I hed all the fiddlin' I 
could do, but when Pete Cartwright come along he 
skeered 'em, en when the Baptists come they doused 
'em in p'isen cold water, en now folks air predictin' the 
end o' the world by this here comet.* I'll be doggoned 
if I've drawed the bow oncet sence folks got skeered 
plumb te thar marrer-bones ! T'other night when I 
heerd sun thin' snap I warn't thinkin' o' the fiddle, en 
when I tuck it down the nex' day jes' te fondle it a 
leetle fer ole times' sake I see it war the leadin' string ; 
en good, lastin' catgut air skase ez crowin' hens in 
these 'ere parts." 

Silas Jordan, returning to the subject of my parents, 
remarked : 

" I reckon them Britishers at the Log-House '11 
hev te roll up en wade in if they want te git on in 
this here deestric'." 

Just then the talk was interrupted by the appearance 
of the persons in question, and the crowd at the door 
stared in silence as they walked in. When Silas 
recovered his wits he continued his remarks : 

" She's got on a store bunnit en he's got on a b'iled 
shirt." To which Socrates replied, without evincing 
the least surprise : 

'' Tallest man I've seed in these parts 'cept Abe 
Lincoln." 

* Douati's great cornet. 



THE MEETING-HOUSE 11 

There was a pause, during which the two men gazed 
through the open door at the tall man who had passed 
in and taken a seat. 

There was something strangely foreign and remote 
in the impression my parents produced at the meeting. 
My mother wore a black silk gown and a black bonnet 
with a veil ; the tall, straight figure of my father 
appeared still taller with his long frock coat and high 
collar, and his serious face and Roman nose gave him 
something of a patriarchal look, although he was still 
in the prime of life. The arrival of the family from 
tlie Log-House caused a flutter of curiosity, but when 
it was seen that the new-comers were devout wor- 
shippers the congregation began to settle down to a 
spirit of religious repose. ^ 

It was a heterogeneous gathering : humorists who 
were unconscious of their humour, mystics who did not 
understand their strange, far-reaching power, senti- 
mental dreamers who did their best to live down their 
emotions, old-timers and cosmopolitans with a marvel- 
lous admixture of sense and sentiment, political pro- 
phets who could foresee events by a sudden, illu- 
minating flash and foretell them in a sudden, pithy 
sentence. It was a wonderful people, living in a 
second Canaan, in an age of social change and upheaval, 
in a period of political and phenomenal wonders. 

A vague longing filled the hearts of the worshippers. 
With the doubts and misgivings of the present, there 
was a feeling that to-morrow would bring the realisa- 
tion of all the yearnings and promises, and when the 
preacher rose and announced that wistful old hymn : 

'* In the Christian's home in glory 
There remains a laud of rest," 



12 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

an instant change was produced in the faces of the 
people. Silas Jordan led the singing in a high, shrill 
voice which descended on the meeting like a cold blast 
tlirough a broken window, but Uriah Busby, always 
on the look-out for squalls, neutralised the rasping 
sounds by his full, melodious waves. His voice gave 
forth an unctuous security, not unmixed with a good 
part of Christian gallantry. In it there was some- 
thing hearty and fraternal ; it leavened conditions and 
persons, and made the strangers feel at home. 

If Uriah Busby's singing gave substance to the 
meeting, that of Kezia Jordan gave expression to its 
soul. In the second line her voice rose and fell like a 
wave from the infinite depths, with something almost 
unearthly in its tones, that seemed to bring forth the 
yearnings of dead generations and the unfulfilled 
desires of her pioneer parents. 

A voice had been heard from behind the thin veil 
that separates the two worlds. 

My mother felt somewhat timid among so many 
strangers. As she looked down at the hymn-book in 
her hands, her brows, slightly elevated, gave to her 
face an expression of pensive reverence. Kezia Jordan 
had noticed two things about the new-comer : her 
wonderful complexion and her delicate hands. Kezia 
had as yet only glanced at the stranger; had she 
heard her speak, she would have remembered her voice 
as an influence going straight to the soul, touching at 
the heart's secrets without naming them — a voice that 
enveloped the listener as in a mantle of compassion, 
with intonations suggestive of unaftected sympathy for 
all in need of it. 

My mother had often heard the old Methodist hymns, 



THE MEETING-HOUSE 13 

but now for the first time she felt the difference between 
the music of a trained choir and the effects produced 
by the singing of one or two persons inspired by the 
spirit of the time, hour, and place. Never had sacred 
song so moved her. Kezia Jordan had infused into 
two lines something which partook of revelation. The 
words of the hymn, then, were true, and not a mere 
juggling with sentiment. Here was an untrained 
singer who by an unconscious effort revealed a truth 
which came to the listener with the force of inexorable 
law, for the words, '' there remains a land of rest," 
came as a decree as well as a promise ; and my mother 
now realised what life in the Log-House would be for 
her. 

A glance at the singer confirmed the impression 
created by her singing. There, in her strange pro- 
phetic features, shone the indelible imprints made by 
the lonely years in the long and silent conflict ; there, 
in Kezia Jordan's eyes, shone the immemorial memen- 
toes of the ages gone, while the expression of her face 
changed as the memories came and went like shadows 
of silent wings over still, clear waters. 

Prayers had been ofi'ered with more or less fervour ; 
and now with awkward demeanour the preacher stood 
up, his pale face and half-scared expression arousing 
in the minds of many of the people no little curiosity 
and some apprehension. 

" Brethering and sistering," he began, in a rambling 
way, "ye hev all heerd the rumours thet hez been 
passed from mouth te mouth pertainin' te the signs 
and wonders o' these here times. Folks's minds is 
onsettled. But me en Brother Gest hev been wrastlin' 
with the Sperit all night yander at his God-fearin' 



14 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

home ; we were wrastlin' fer a tex' fittin' this here 
time en meetin', en it warn't till sommairs nigh mornin' 
thet Brother Gest opened the Good Book, en p'intin' 
his finger, sez : 'I hev found it ! Hallelujer ! ' It 
war Isaiah, nineteenth chapter, twentieth verse." 

Here the preacher opened the Bible. He read 
slowly, emphasising certain words so that even the 
most obtuse present might catch something of the 
meaning. 

" 'En it shell be fer a sign, Qnfer a witness unto 
the Lord of hosts in the land of Egypt : fer they shell 
cry unto the Lord bekase of the oppressors, en he 
shell send them a saviour, en a great one, en he shell 
deliver them.' " 

He stopped a moment to let the congregation muse 
on the text, and then proceeded : 

*' It looked like when he put his finger on thet tex' 
Brother Gest war changed ez in a twinklin', en our 
watchin' en prayin' war over fer thet night. Brether- 
ing, with the findin' o' thet tex' our troubles war gone, 
en in thar place thar come te our innermost feelin's a 
boundin' joy sech ez on'y them thet hez faith kin 
know.' 

Here he lost himself ; then, like a drowning man 
who clutches at a straw, he seized hold of an old 
hackneyed text, the first that came into his mind, 
and continued regardless of consequences : 

"Fer ez the Scriptur' sez, 'What came ye out fer 
te see ? A reed shaken by the wind ? ' I 'low most o' 
ye hez plenty reeds if ye're anywhars near a snipe 
deestric', but I reckon ye ain't troubled much by 
seein' 'em shake." 

He began to regain confidence, and leaving reeds 



^ 



THE MEETING-HOUSE 15 

he grappled with the earth and the heavens in periods 
which carried everybody with him. 

'' But thar ain't a sinner here, thar ain't no Christian 
here to-day thet warn't plumb shuck up by thet 
yearthquake t'other night thet rocked ye in yer beds 
like ye were bein' rocked in a skiff in the waves 
behind one o' them Mississippi stern-wheelers. No, 
brethering, the Lord hez passed the time when He 
shakes yer cornfields en yer haystacks by a leetle puff 
o' wind. He hez opened the roof o' Heaven so ye 
can all see what's a-comin'. He hez made it so all o' 
ye, 'cept them thet's blind, kin say truly, ' I hev seen 
if Under ye the yearth hez been shuck, over ye the 
stars air beginnin' te shift en wander. A besom o' 
destruction '11 overtake them thet's on the wrong side 
in this here fight ! " 

He eyed the people up and down on each side, and 
then went on : 

" But the tex' says, ' He shell send them a saviour, 
en a great one, en he shell deliver them.' Now it air 
jest ez plain ez the noonday sun thet the Lord 
God app'ints His own leaders, en it air jest ez plain 
thet His ch'ice ain't fell on no shufflin' backslider. 
Ye kin bet all yer land en yer cattle en yer bosses on 
this one preposition, en thet is ye cain't git away from 
fac's by no cross-argimints thet many air called but 
mighty few air chosen ; en thet means thet on'y one 
man is 'p'inted te lead." 

At this there was a visible change in the attitude 
of many of the listeners. 

"What air he a-comin' to ?" whispered old Lem 
Stephens to Uriah Busby. 

It was a bold stroke ; but Elihu Gest, the 



16 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

Load-Bearer, had won over the preacher to speak 
out, and he was coming to the main point as fast as 
an artless art and blunt but effective rhetoric would 
let him. 

He proceeded with his sermon, now bringing the 
expectant people to the verge of the last period, now 
letting them slip back as if he were giving them a 
" breathing spell " to brace them for a still stronger 
stage in the argument. It was wonderful how 
this simple preacher, without education or training, 
managed to keep the interest of the congregation at 
boiling point for more than an hour before he pro- 
nounced the two magical words that would unlock 
the whole mystery of the discourse. Before him sat 
old Whigs, Know-nothings and Democrats, Ee- 
publicans, militant Abolitionists, and outspoken friends 
of slave-owners in the South. But the Load-Bearer 
was there, his eyes riveted on the speaker, every nerve 
strung to the utmost pitch, assuming by moral com- 
pact the actual responsibility of the sermon. If the 
preacher failed Elihu Gest would assume his loads ; if 
the sermon was a triumph he would share in the 
preacher's triumph. 

As the sermon drew to a close it became evident 
that by some queer, roundabout way, by some process 
of reasoning and persuasion that grew upon the people 
like a spell, they were listening, and had all along 
been listening, to a philippic against slavery. 

At last the preacher's face lost its timorous look. 
With great vehemence he repeated the last part of his 
text : 

" ' Fer they shell cry unto the Lord bekase of the 
oppressors, en he shell send them a saviour, en a 



THE MEETING-HOUSE 17 

great one,' " — here he struck the table a violent blow 
— '"en he shell deliver them ! ' " 

There was a moment of bewilderment and suspense, 
during which Lem Stephens was preparing for the 
worst. His mouth, usually compressed to a thin, 
straight slit, was now stiffened by a bull-dog jaw 
which he forced forward till the upper lip had almost 
disappeared ; Minerva Wagner sat rigid, her mummy- 
like figure encased in whalebone WTapped in linsey- 
woolsey. 

The preacher gave them no rest : 

"Now right here I want ye all te ask yerselves 
who it air thet's a-cryin' fer deliverance. Who air 
it?" he shouted. "Why, thar ain't but one people 
a-cryin' fer deliverance, en they air the slaves down 
thar in Egypt ! " 

The words fell like a muffled blow in the silence. 
Lem Stephens sat forward, breathless ; Uriah Busby 
heaved a long sigh ; fire flashed from Mrs. Wagner's 
grey, faded eyes ; Ebenezer Hicks turned in his seat, 
his bushy eyebrows lowering to a threatening frown ; 
while the face of Socrates wore a look of calm and 
neutral cui'iosity. 

But hardly had the meeting realised the full force 
of the last words when the preacher put the final 
questions : 

" En who shell deliver them ? Do any o' ye 
know ? Brethering, thar ain't but one human 
creatur' ekil to it, en thet air Abraham Lincoln. 
The Lord hez called him ! " 

An electrical thrill passed through the meeting. A 
subtle, permeating power took possession of the con- 
gregation, for the preacher had pronoimced the first 

v.s. 



18 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

half of the name, Abraham, in such a way that it 
seemed as if the patriarch of Israel was coming once 
more in person to lead the people. An extraordinary 
influence had been evoked ; a living investment of 
might and mystery, never at any time very distant, 
was now close at hand. 

Ebenezer Hicks rose, and casting a fierce glance 
about him hurried out ; Minerva "Wagner sprang 
from her seat like an automaton suddenly moved by 
some invisible force and left the meeting, followed by 
her two tall, lank sons ; Lem Stephens hurried after 
them, and with each step gave vent to his feelings by 
a loud thump on the bare floor with his wooden leg. 
When he got to the door he cast one last withering 
look at the preacher. 

But Uriah Busby's voice rang out loud and 
sonorous : 

" How tedious and tasteless the hours 
When Jesus no longer I see." 

The old hymn was taken up by Kezia Jordan in the 
next line. Once more her voice filled the meeting- 
house with golden waves, once more every heart beat 
in. unison, and every soul communed in an indescrib- 
able outpouring of religious melody. 

The whole congregation was singing now. With 
Kezia' s voice a balm of Gilead came pouring over the 
troubled waters created by the strange, prophetic and 
menacing sermon. The Load-Bearer, with hardly 
voice enough to speak aloud, was singing ; the preacher 
sang even louder than he had preached ; Serena 
Busby sang as I never heard her sing again ; and 
while those who had left the meeting were about to 



THE MEETING-HOUSE 19 

depart they heard what they would never hear repeated. 
The opportunity to join hands with the coming power 
had passed, and as they set out for home they must 
have been haunted by the matchless magic and 
simplicity of the words and music, and more than ever 
would the coming houi'S seem " tedious and tasteless " 
to them. 



c 2 



CHAPTEE II 

THE LOAD-BEARER 

"We had been four months in the Log-House and 
my mother was just beginning to feel at home when 
one afternoon, as I was sauntering along the road near 
the gate, I saw a man on foot coming from the south. 

As he approached I noticed that his features had a 
peculiar cast, his hair was rather long, his movements 
somewhat slow, and when he arrived in front of the 
gate he squared about and stopped with a sort of jerk, 
as if he had been dreaming but was now awake and 
conscious that this was the place he had come to visit. 
He peered at the Log-House as though awaiting some 
interior impulse to move him to further action ; then 
he opened the gate, and, walking through the yard to 
the front door, rapped lightly. 

I had followed him in, and when my mother opened 
the door and the stranger said, in a listless sort of 
way, " I jes' called to see how ye're gettin' on," I 
saw it was Elihu Gest, the Load-Bearer. 

My mother thanked him, invited him in, and offered 
him a chair. 

" I 'low ye're not long settled in this 'ere section," 
he said, taking a seat. 

" Not long," she answered ; "we are quite settled 
in the house, but on the farm my husband has so 
much to do he hardly knows where to begin." 

She placed the kettle on the stove for coffee, and 



THE LOAD-BEARER 21 

busied herself about getting the strange visitor some 
substantial refreshment. I thought I had never seen 
a face more inscrutable. He eyed my mother with 
grave interest, and after a silence that lasted some 
considerable time he said : 

" If yer loads is too heavy jes' cast 'em off ; the 
Lord is willin' en I ain't noways contrary." 

Not till now did she realise that this was the man 
she had heard so much about ; but not knowing just 
what to say, she gave no answer. 

As he sat and stared at my mother his presence 
diffused a mysterious influence. My mind was busy 
with queries : Who sent him ? What are his loads ? 
Why does he take such an interest in my mother ? 
And I thought she must be giving him coffee and 
eatables the better to enable him to support his loads, 
whatever they might be. She placed the coffee and 
other good things on the table and cordially invited 
the stranger to make himself at home. After pouring 
out a cup of coff'ee she sat down with folded hands, 
her pale face more pensive than usual, making some 
remarks about the weather and the good prospects for 
the new settlers. 

Elihu Gest sat, a veritable sphinx of the prairie, 
wrapped in his own meditations. She almost feared 
that his visit might be a portent of some coming 
calamity, and that he had come to warn her and help 
her to gather force and courage for the ordeal. 

Yet there was something in his look which inspired 
confidence and even cheerfulness, and she concluded it 
was good to have him sitting there. He began to sip 
his coffee, and at last, as if waking from a reverie, he 
put the question : 



22 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

" How air ye feelin' in sperit ? " 

"The Lord has been merciful," she replied, the 
question having come as an immediate challenge to 
her religious faith and courage. 

" Yer coffee is mos' appetizin'," he said, with a 
slight sniff. 

" I am glad you like it, and I hope you are feeling 
rested, for you seem to have come a long way." 

" They's a powerful difference a-twixt a mile and 
what a man's thinkin'. When yer mind is sot on one 
thing the distance a-twixt two places ain't much 
noways." 

" Do you always walk ? " she asked sympathetically. 

"It's accordin' te how the hoss is feelin'. If the 
beast's anyways contrary he gives a snort, ez much ez 
te say, ' Mebbe I'll carry ye en mebbe I won't ' ; but 
when he snorts and kicks both te oncet thet means 
he'll kick the hind sights off all creation if I try te 
ride him. I've seen him when Joshua en his trumpet 
couldn't git him outen the barn door. I don't believe 
in workin' dumb critters when their sperits air droopin'. 
I'm allers more contented when I'm 'bleeged te walk ; 
en bosses air powerful skase." 

" Necessity compels us to do many things that 
seem impossible, but we learn to accept them as the 
best things for us. Won't you have some more 
coffee ? " 

" Yer coffee is mos' appetizin', it is so." 

" And won't you eat something ? " 

"I'm much obleeged, but I don't feel no cravin' 
fer vittles. Accordin' te Sister Jordan, yer cakes en 
pies beats all she ever see." 

" Mrs. Jordan is a very good woman." 



THE LOAD-BEARER 23 

'' She is so ; I've knowed her from away back." 

There came another pause, during which the visitor 
looked straight before him. lost in thought. Presently 
he began : 

" Thet comet's convicted a good many folks. 
Ebenezer Hicks war skeered half to death when he 
see it a-comin', makin' the loads mos' heavy fer his 
pore wife." 

Then, addressing my mother, he continued : 

" The night he war 'flicted, I couldn't git te sleep 
nohow. I sez to myself, ' Thar's an axle-tree wants 
ilein', en I'll be blamed if it ain't over te Ebenezer 
Hicks's.' I went te the barn te see how the hoss war 
feelin', en J sez, ' Kin ye carry me over te Ebenezer 
Hicks's if I saddle ye ? ' But Henry Clay give a 
kick thet sot me wonderin' how I war ever goin' te 
git thar." 

" Many people think the end of the world is at 
hand," said my mother. 

"They do, fer a fact." 

He paused a moment, then went on : 

" But them thet's skeered air folks without faith. 
I ain't got no call fer te take loads from folks what's 
skeered. Summow I cain't carry 'em." 

" The burdens of life are, indeed, hard to bear alone." 

" They air so ; en 'twixt you and me, marm, I'm 
jest a might onsartin 'bout what it air 'flicts some 
folks. 'Pears like Satan skeers more folks 'n is ever 
won over by the Lord's goodness en mercy. Them 
thet's allers a-tremblin' ain't much account when it 
comes te strappin' the beUy-band real hard ; they 
don't never set tight in the saddle when they're called 
on te go plumb through a wilderness o' thistles." 



J 



24 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

After meditating again for a time, he resumed : 

" But Ebenezer Hicks warn't a patchin' on Uriah 
Busby what lives yander at Black B'ar Creek. He 
war so skeered he sot to weepin' when he see me 
come in, en I never see a woman ez hoppin' mad ez 
Sereny Busby ! I couldn't take no loads from 
Brother Busby ; accordin' te my notion, he warn't 
settin' up under none, en jest ez soon ez I sot eyes on 
Sister Busby I see she hedn't hitched up to nothin' of 
any heft neither. She don't set still long enough. I 
'low I war some dis'p'inted." 

He laughed faintly ; perhaps he wished to convey 
the impression that the burdens of life were not so 
dreadful, after all. 

" I fear you had your trouble all for nothing," said 
my mother. 

"Ye see. Brother Busby war skeered, en Sister 
Busby got her dander up. I never knowed a woman 
with red hair that war af eared of man or beast." 

" Mr. Busby must have been very much frightened," 
remarked my mother, smiling. 

" Not so skeered but what he could talk. Si 
Jordan had his speech tuck plumb away, en I never 
see Sister Jordan so flustered. But she don't say 
much nohow. Sereny Busby she keeps the top 
a-spinnin' the livelong day. But I hev seen Uriah 
Busby caved in more'n oncet. I knowed 'em both 
afore they war married. If I wanted a woman, 
sprightly with her tongue ez well ez with her hands, 
I'd take Sereny Busby fer fust ch'ice ; if I wanted a 
woman what knows a heap en sez mos' nothin', I'd 
take Kezia Jordan. Human natur' ain't allers the 
same. I 'low Sister Busby's got the most eddication." 



THE LOAD-BEARER 26 

'^ But education never helps much if the heart is 
not in the right place." 

"Thet thar's what I've allers said. Tears like 
sometimes Sereny Busby's heart's jest a leetle lop- 
sided en wants re-settin', ez ye might say. But 
thar's a sight o' difference atwixt one load en another. 
When I set with some folks what's in a heap o' 
trouble, I go away ez happy ez kin be, but when I 
hev te go away without ary a load, I feel mos' 
empty." 

Here there was another spell of silence, but after a 
few sips from a third cup of coffee he continued : 

" 'Pears like thar warn't never no heft te Sereny 
Busby's troubles. She don't give 'em no chance te 
set ; en jest ez a duck's back goes agin water, her'n 
is set agin loads." 

" The Lord has given her a cheerful mind ; T think 
she has much to be thankful for." 

" She hez, fer a fact. But I never kin tell jes' how 
her mind is a-workin'. She steps roun' ez spry ez kin 
be, hummin' fiddle tunes mos'ly ; en when Brother 
Busby tuck te bed with thet fever what's mos' killed 
him, she kept on a-hummin', en some folks would 
a-said she war triflin', but she warn't. She give 
Uriah his med'cine mos' reg'lar, en mopped his head 
with cold water from the well, en made him appetizin' 
rabbit soup. The Bible sez the sperit's willin' but 
the flesh is weak, but I don't see no failin' in a 
woman thet kin hum all day like a spinnin'-top. 
. . . But I allers kin tell what Kezia Jordan is 
a-thinkin', en thar ain't no two ways 'bout it; Sister 
Jordan kin sing hymns so ye want te give right up en 
die, ye feel so happy." 



26 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

'' She has something wonderful in her voice when 
she sings," said my mother ; "I felt that when I 
heard her sing' ' in meeting.' " 

" I low Si Jordan ain't pertickler benev'lent, but 
Kezia Jordan counts fer more'n one in that 'ar house." 

" I fear she has had a life of much care and trouble, 
and perhaps that is one reason why she is so good." 

" Folks is born like we find 'em, marm. I've been 
nigh on thirty year wrastlin' with the sorrows o' life, 
en I ain't seen ary critter change his spots. A wolf 
don't look like a wild cat, en I never see a fox with a 
bob tail ; en folks air like varmints : God Almighty 
hez marked 'em with His seal." 

He looked round the room abstractedly, and then 
said : 

" It's looks thet tells when a man's in trouble ; en 
a heap o' tribulation keeps folks from hollerin'. 
Sister Jordan hez knowed trouble from away back. 
But thar's a tremenjous difference a-twixt her en Si 
Jordan. He kin talk en pray when he gits a-goin', 
en I've beared him when it looked like his flow o' 
words would swamp the hull endurin' meetin' ; but 
when the risin' settled, thar warn't much harm done 
no way. But jes' let Sister Jordan sing a hymn, en 
ye feel like the hull yearth war sot in tune." 

" That is because she is so sincere," observed my 
mother, gravely. 

"Thet's a fact. I ain't never forgot the time when 
I hed thet spell o'sickness en felt ezif thar war nothin' 
wuth a-livin' fer. What with sickness, en the defeat 
o' Fremont, en them desperadoes cuttin' up over in 
Kansas, en the goin's on o' them Demicrats in Spring- 
field, 'peared like I never would be good fer nothin' 



THE LOAD-BEARER 27 

moro. All te oncet the fcelin' come over me te go over 
te Kezia Jordan's. Thet ud be 'bout ez much ez I could 
do, seein' I war like a chicken what's jes' pecked its 
way through the shell, I hedn't got ez fur ez the 
kitchen door when I beared her a-singin' : 

" ' Come thou Fount of every blessin', 
Tune my heart te sing Thy praise.' 

'' Thet voice o' her'n set me a-cryin', en I sot right 
down on the door-steps, en thanked God fer all His 
goodness. Ai'ter a while, she come out fer a bucket 
o' water. 

" ' Good Land ! ' she sez; ' I'm right glad te see ye. 
Go right in ; ye're jest in time fer dinner ; I've got 
some real nice prairie chicken en pum'kin pie ; 
everything's 'mos' ready.' 

" Soon as I went in she sez : 

"'Mercy on us, Elihu! I never see ye look so! Set 
right down, en tell me what ails ye ; ye ain't been 
sick 'thout lettin' me know, hev ye ? ' " 

" I like to have such a good Christianas my nearest 
neighbour," said my mother, with much feeling. 

" I allow she warn't allers a Christian. I war over 
at Carlinville when she heard Pete Cartwright fer the 
fust time, en the meetin'-house warn't big enough te 
hold the people. Sister Jordan warn't moved te sing 
any durin' the fust hymn, but she j'ined in the second, 
en arter thet Brother Cartwright tuck right holt, ez 
ye might say, en swung 'em till their feet tetched 
perdition. 

'' ' Yo're ripe,' he sez, holdin' out his fist, ' yo're 
ripe, like grain waitin' fer the reaper ! Yell be 
mowed down, en the grain Tl be plumb divided from 



28 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

the chaff, en the Christians '11 be parted from the 
sinners.' 

" The hull meetin' began to move like wheat 
a-wavin' in the wind. The preacher knowed Kezia 
Jordan fer a nat'ral-born Christian by her singin, 
fer he p'inted straight, en sez : 

'" Ye're at the cross-roads, sister; ye'll hev te 
> choose one or t'other ; en the years en the months air 
gone fer most o' ye, en thar's on'y this here hour left 
fer te choose. Which will it be ? Will it be the road 
thet leads up yander, or the one thet leads down by the 
dark river whar the willers air weepin' night en day ? ' 

" This war the turnin' p'int fer a good many ; but 
the preacher warn't satisfied yet. He rolled up en 
went te work in dead arnest. He told 'bout the fust 
coon hunt he ever see : 

" ' Sinners,' he sez, * is jes' like the coon asleep in 
thet tree — never dreamin' o' danger. But the varmint 
war waked all on a sudden by a thunderin' smell o' 
smoke, en hed te take te the branches. Someone 
climbs up the tree en shakes the branch whar the 
coon is holdin' on.' En' right here Pete Cartwright 
slung his handkerchief over his left arm en sez, ' A 
leetle more, a leetle more, a 1-e-e-e-tle more en the 
varmint's bound te drap squar' on the dogs.' He 
shuck his arm three times — down, down, down, he 
sez, lettin' the handkerchief drap, ' down te whar the 
wailin' en gnashin' air a million times more terrible 
'n the sufferin's o' thet coon.' " 

The Load-Bearer bent forward and his face assumed 
a look of tragic intensity as he continued : 

" A veil o' mournin' war a-bein' pulled down over 
the meetin'. He war takin' the people straight te 



THE LOAD-BEARER 29 

jedgment, like a flock o' sheep, with the goats a- 
followin', usin' no dividin' line, for he put it to 'em : 

" ' Whar would ye all be if this here floor war te 
slide right from under ye, leavin' ye settin' on the 
brink, with Time on one side en Etarnity on t'other ? ' 
" The hull meetin' war shuck te pieces, some hollerin', 
some too 'flicted te set up ; en I see nigh on twenty 
plumb fainted en gone." 

Elihu Gest sighed as he sat back in his chair, and 
proceeded in his usual way : 

" When the meetin' war over I sez te Sister Jordan, 
' How air ye feelin' in sperit ? ' En she sez, ' I've 
had more'n enough o' this world's goods ! ' 
" ' I want te know ! ' sez I. 

"'Yes,' she sez, 'I don't never want no more.' 
En I see it war for everlastin'." 
No one spoke for a long time. 
At last he rose from his chair and moved towards 
the door like one in a dream, his face wearing a look 
of almost superhuman detachment. 

Then, just before passing out, he turned and said, 
" I'll bid ye good-day, fer the present." 
This visit made the day a memorable one for me, 
for I saw in Elihu Gest a human wonder ; he opened 
up a world of things and influences about which I had 
never dreamed. And when he had disappeared down 
the road to the south, the way he had come, I 
wondered how he was carrying his loads, what they 
could be, and whether my mother felt relieved of any 
of her burdens. But I held my peace, while she 
simply remarked : 

" A very strange but very good man. I wonder if 
we shall ever see him again ? '' 



80 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

Here was a man who did everything by signs, 
tokens, impressions ; who was moved by some power 
hidden from the understanding of everyone else — a 
power which none conld define, concerning which 
people had long since ceased to question. He came 
and went, influenced by signs in harmony with his 
own feelings and moods, by natural laws shut off from 
our understanding by the imperative rules of conven- 
tional religion and society. Things which were sealed 
mysteries to us were finger-posts to him, pointing the 
way across the prairies, in this direction or in that. 
Is it time to go forth ? He would look up at the 
heavens, sense the state of Nature by the touch of the 
breeze, sound the humour of the hour with a plumb- 
line of his own, then set out to follow where it led. 

The Load-Bearer's presence, his odd appearance, 
his descriptions and peculiar phrases, his spells of 
"*" silence, his sudden enthusiasms, the paradox of humour 
and religious feeling displayed, brought to our home 
the fervour and candour of the meeting-house — honest 
pioneer courage and frankness, and, above all, an 
influence that left on me an impression never to be 
effaced. How far, how very far, we were from the 
episcopal rector, with his chosen words, studied 
phrases, and polite and dignified sympathy ! How 
far it all was from anything my parents had ever 
dreamed of even in so remote a country ! The prairie 
was inhabited by a people as new and strange as the 
country itself. 

And what a gulf there was between the customs of 
the old country and the customs usual in the new 
"West ! Visitors appeared unannounced and at almost 
any hour. To-day a neighbour would come two miles 



THE LOAD-BEARER 81 

to borrow some sugar ; to-morrow another would 
come still farther to borrow tea or coffee. All were 
received as if they were old and tried friends. My 
mother attended to the wants of those who came to 
boiTOw things for the table, while my father did his 
best to satisfy the men who came to borrow ploughs, 
spades, saws, wagons, and even horses. 

For the neighbours considered my father a rich 
man, judging him by the horses, sheep and cattle he 
owned. And when he appeared at meetings, wearing 
a handsome velvet waistcoat with rich blue checks — 
one of the waistcoats he purchased during his visit to 
Paris before his marriage — they thought him richer 
still. 

Thus are appearances even more deceptive and 
dangerous than words, for all, without exception, are 
judged by the illusions produced by property and 
personal attire. 



CHAPTER III 

THE LOG-HOUSE 

The Log-House was built some twenty-five years 
before we came to live in it, but we never knew who 
planted the trees and flowers. Surely it must have 
been a lover of Nature, for these we know by the little 
signs and tokens they leave behind them. Certain 
flowers were omitted, such as the rose, the flower of 
fashion and convention, the one with least suggestive 
influence on the heart and the aff'ections, for it always 
turns the thoughts on more personal and worldly things. 

There is a law of correspondence, a kind of secret 
code proper for each condition of life, and people 
become distorted and confused when this law is ignored. 
How often I wanted to know who planted these 
flowers ! I thought I could guess how the woman 
looked — for it certainly was a woman — and I fancied 
I could see her arriving here from the South with her 
husband, the couple intent on leading a quiet life, the 
husband raising stock instead of wheat and corn, the 
wife attending to household duties and to the planting 
and watering of the flowers — the old familiar ones 
which harmonised with the prairie and the inmost 
instincts of the soul. 

I seem to see a tall, spare woman, with a pensive 
face, as silent and psychic as Kezia Jordan, planting 
the flowers in the first warm spell of the first April, 
in the evenings, after supper, when the earth that had 



THE LOG-HOUSE 33 

waited her coming for ceons and teons yielded up 
the fragrance of that marvellous loam composed of 
withered grass and flowering weeds. Her husband is 
seated in an old rocking-chair in the kitchen getting 
all the music he can out of a raspy fiddle, a blood- 
hound lying on the floor beside him. The wife plants 
only those flowers that have wistful eyes and homely 
souls, and with every one a thought goes out that fills 
a void between the past and the present, as she says 
to herself: "That is the way they were at home." 
For the silent figure, intent on digging with her own 
hands the holes for the seeds and young plants, is 
thinking of one who planted flowers of the same kind 
years before, far away in another part of the country. 
And so she works through the warm evenings, placing 
each thing, not according to any rule of art, but accord- 
ing to memory and the promptings of instinct. For 
the yard around the Log-House was not disfigured 
with walks made by measure and strewn with sand 
and shells. Everything grew as if by nature, and 
this freedom gave the place a character of its own 
which the slightest show of conventional art would 
have made impossible. The sweet-william grew in 
great high bunches, interlaced with the branches of 
other shrubs, and the gympsum-weed and sumac were 
not far off, under which the chickens stood and cleaned 
their feathers, and where, on rainy days, they lent an 
air of gloom to the surroundings. 

And now that the silent figure has planted the 
summer flowers, she thinks of the last and most im- 
portant of all, the morning-glory. This she places at 
each side of the north door, where in the future it will 
be the only green thing on that side of the house, 

v.s. D 



34 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

excepting one large locust tree. But the morning- 
glory ! With what care she waters the plant when the 
ground is dry, and how she looks forward to the day 
when it will be full of bloom, covering each side of 
the door, reminding her of the old homestead and 
absent friends ! 

And thus the last planting is done, and she steps 
inside and sits down beside her husband, musing for 
awhile, as my own mother would now do before 
beginning some new work. 

How does it happen that between people who are 
strangers to one another there should be a connecting 
link of sympathy, forged by little acts like the plant- 
ing of a certain flower, at a special time, in a special 
place ? Perhaps there is a secret and invisible agree- 
ment between certain persons and places, a definite 
meaning in the coming and going of certain persons 
we have never seen, and that nothing is wholly futile. 
However it may be, the flower that was planted on 
the north side of the house by someone years before 
seemed planted there as much for my special benefit as 
for anyone else's. 

One day, after breakfast, my attention was arrested 
by a sight which gave me a thrill of admiration. 
The morning-glories were in bloom ! There they 
were, like a living vision, revealing to me something 
in the kingdom of flowers I had never seen or felt 
before. The radiant days of summer had decked the 
Log-House with a mantle more beautiful than any 
worn by the Queen of Sheba or by Solomon when he 
received her. And now, as the days were growing 
more languid and the evenings more wistful, autumn, 
with her endless procession of far, faint shadows, 



THE LOG-HOUSE 86 

would steal across the threshold under a canopy of 
infinite and indescribable colour. 

How the spell of their magic changed the appear- 
ance of the house ! The flowers looked out on sky 
and plain with meek, mauve-tinted eyes, after having 
absorbed all the amaranth of a cloudless night, the 
aureole of early morning, and a something, I know 
not what, that belongs to dreams and distance wafted 
on waves of colour from far-away places. At times the 
flowers imparted to the rugged logs the semblance of 
a funeral pyre, their beauty suggesting the mournful 
pomp of some martyr-queen, with pale, wondering 
eyes, awaiting the torch in a pallium of purple. They 
gave to the entrance a sort of halo that symbolised 
the eternal residuum of all things mortal and visible. 

How impressive around the Log- House was that 
hour of the evening when, just after sundown, the 
birds, the chickens, and the turkeys began to seek a 
resting-place for the night ! With the gradual dying 
away of sound and movement, everything was tinged 
with mourning. When at last, with the slow fading 
twilight, the fluttering of wings and chirping ceased, 
a vague stillness evoked a feeling of mystery that 
spread over the house and everything around it. 

Now and again the quiet was broken by the sharp 
whiz of insects darting here and there through the 
gloaming, the cry of the whip-poor-will, as it flitted 
between the house and the hollow, or the far, lone- 
some call of the hoot-owl, followed by a puff of wind, 
the rustling of grass, and a period of nameless unrest, 
during which the crickets and the katy-dids began 
their long, languid litanies of the night. 

Then, on certain evenings, a faint glow in the east 

D 2 



86 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

would appear, and above the horizon the dawn of 
moonrise gradually illumined the borders of the 
wilderness. In a few moments more an immense 
crimson disc looked out on the silence from behind 
great sheets of blood-red clouds, presently merging 
into amber, with stripes of silver and gold. But 
these colours would soon give place to a serene glow, 
and from that time until daybreak all Nature was 
wrapped in phantasmal twilight, the Log-House loom- 
ing like a spectral silhouette in the silver light, its 
rugged logs heaped together like something in a 
dream, on the borders of a world apart, haunted by 
gliding shadows and illusive sounds. 

Inside the house, after supper, when everything 
was put in order for the night, the stillness was 
oppressive, for the quiet was not that of repose. It 
suggested an immense and immeasurable sadness, and 
my mother would sit knitting in silence, with thoughts 
of the far-absent ones. About ten o'clock my father 
would read the evening prayers from the Anglican 
Prayer-book, with the whole family kneeling, and I 
wondered what efficacy written prayers could have. 
But whenever I heard my mother utter the words: 
" May the Lord in His goodness have mercy on us ! " 
I felt an instant accession of power. The words, 
coming from that magical voice, unlocked the 
reservoirs of the infinite, and faith came rushing 
through the flood-gates. They brought a presence 
which filled the house with hope and comfort. I 
was satisfied without being able to explain why. There 
were moments when she seemed to bring a super- 
human power to the threshold of the Log-House 
beyond which danger and despair could not enter. 



THE LOG-HOUSE 87 

She had implicit faith in what she called tlie 
"Promises." "The Lord in His mercy will never 
permit it," she used to say when a calamity seemed 
inevitable ; and with all her sorrows the irreparable 
never happened. Faith and prayer form a bulwark 
around the lives of some people through which no 
permanent misfortune ever penetrates. 

Sometimes, after the evening prayers, the house 
became subdued to a stillness which produced the 
effect of someone having crept in by stealth. The 
flames had gone from the logs ; the embers were 
smouldering into ashes ; the light and sparkle had 
turned to something that resembled audible thought. 
This was the hour when the things which during the 
day gave forth no noticeable sound now seemed to 
speak or to chant. The stroke of the old clock, with 
its long pendulum, went like a plummet to the depths 
of the soul. It brought forth that part of Nature 
which is hidden from our sight by a thin veil behind 
which we can sometimes hear the voices on the other 
side. The cry of the cricket was that of a tiny 
friend, affecting only the smallest nerves of silence, 
but the solemn tones of the time-piece accentuated 
our isolation. Some clocks are nervous and rasping, 
others emit a tone of hope and serenity, but the one 
in the Log-House had a deep, portentous tone which 
filled one with a sense of the hollowness of things, the 
futility of effort, a consciousness of days and nights 
continually departing, of vanishing memories, and of 
people passing into lonely, isolated and everlasting 
dreams. A great gulf now separated us from the rest 
of the world, and my mother sat like one under a 
spell. 



38 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

About midnight the stillness became an obsession. 
All Natui'e was steeped in an atmosphere of palpable 
quiet, teeming with dismal uncertainty and sombre 
forebodings. The flickering of a tallow candle added 
something ghostly to the room with its dark mahogany 
furniture, while every unfamiliar sound outside 
startled the members of the family who were still 
awake. The doleful duets of the katy-dids often 
came to a sudden stop, and during the hush it 
seemed as if anything might happen — the apparition 
of a phantom, or the arrival of a band of masked 
marauders. An owl would visit the solitary locust 
tree which stood between the north door and the barn, 
and its weird calls sent a shiver through the night. 
The first note had an indescribable quality, and the 
series of half- veiled trumpet calls that followed pro- 
duced on me a sensation never to be forgotten. They 
sounded like nothing else in Nature, and came to me 
as a lament from some waif of the wilderness. 

" Hear me, hear me, inhabitants of the Log-House ! 
Is solitude now your portion ? " 

Again, in the dead of night, some animal would 
carry off a fowl, and the long-drawn-out "caws" 
came like the cries of a child for help, growing less 
and less distinct, and at last dying away in the dis- 
tance as the animal passed the barn and began the 
descent into the hollow towards the woods. The 
effect on me was one of nervous apprehension. It 
was the mystery which added a nameless dread to a 
mere incident of the night. 

On stormy nights in the autumn the north wind 
brought with it voices that moaned and sighed. Every 
sweep of the wind came with a chorus of lamentations 



THE LOG-HOUSE 39 

that moved round and round, first on one side then 
on the other, and the intervals of silence between 
the gusts came as respites before some final disaster. 
The big locust, that stood alone, had an ominous 
whistle, while the trees and bushes at the front and 
back swayed under the low, swooping gusts, until the 
Log-House seemed once more a part of the wild and 
primitive forest. 

At times streaks of cold light from the semi-circling 
moon would fall through the window on the old rag- 
carpet. Old, because each strip had belonged to 
garments worn long before the carpet was put together. 
It needed the moonlight or the soft rays of the setting 
sun to bring out all its romance and mystery. Then 
the stripes of saffron evoked the presence of Kezia 
Jordan, and the darker hues memories of the Load- 
Bearer, Socrates, and Minerva Wagner. Yfhat 
romantic adventure these patches suggested ! I 
would sit and count the pieces and compare one colour 
with another, for each seemed imbued with a per- 
sonality of its own. Here, in the common sitting- 
room, filled with chimeras about to vanish, each strip 
of cloth was as a pillow for some dead thing of the 
past, some greeting or regret. There were strips worn 
when the wearer set sail from the old country, others 
had faced a hail of bullets at Buena Vista, passed 
thi'ough an Indian rising, or the first stormy meetings 
of the Abolitionists in Illinois. Once all these strips 
of cloth had stood for life and action ; they wrapped a 
world of dreams and moods, but now they covered a 
rough floor in a house of logs. They humanised the 
interior as graves humanise a plot of earth. And 
never did sacred carpet of Mecca contain so much of 



40 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

the magic of life ; for here, too, daily prayers were 
said on bended knee, and the carpet seemed one with 
the religious aspirations of the occupants, with all our 
hopes and fears, joys and sorrows. 

How genial and home-like it was ! It belonged to 
the order of the wild roses and flowering weeds, the 
corn and clover, the morning-glories, the gympsum, 
the sumac, and the red-winged blackbirds that soared 
in circles around and above the house. 

If its shreds and patches suggested things of the 
past, the Log-House life it represented was palpitating 
with the present : full of human dreams and ambitions, 
of the voiceless sentiments that make a home in the 
bosom of the prairie. It invited the tired wayfarer 
of the lonely roads to come in and be refreshed with 
steaming coffee and hot biscuits, pound-cake, and 
dainty pies made from the products of the loamy soil ; 
it invited all to step in and listen to words of 
encouragement if in trouble, and words of sympathy 
if in affliction; for the rag-carpet was made for the 
Log-House, and the Log-House was made for Man. 



CHAPTER IV 

SOCRATES GIVES ADVICE 

The day Socrates made his first call at the Log- 
House I happened to be at home, instead of fishing, 
a mile away, or wandering about in my accustomed 
haunts among the squirrels, birds and rabbits. He 
brought Ebenezer Hicks with him. 

Socrates entertained me with some simple stories of 
his experience as a hunter and trapper twenty or thirty 
years earlier : how he killed big game dui'ing the 
winters of the great snows, his buffalo hunts in 
Missouri and Iowa, his strange devices for snaring 
the mink, the fox, and the raccoon. 

I devoured every word with eager excitement: 
here was the actual romance of the wild woods. 

"And have you killed many bitterns and owls?" 
I inquired. 

"I don't b'lieve in killin' things ye cain't eat or 
skin." 

It seemed to me that this Socrates of the wilder- 
ness had something of the look of a big horned owl, 
with his bushy eyebrows and short scraggy beard. 
Over his sparsely- covered head the years had cast a 
halo of experience and wisdom, and I began to respect 
this man who united in himself so much adventure 
and common-sense. He seemed strong as a lion and 
harmless as a lamb, free as the winds of the prairie, 
yet methodical and never in doubt. He brought with 



42 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

him into the Log-House — where our family had 
gathered like a flock of sheep in a strange land 
— a feeling of security and a renewal of faith and 
courage. 

" There's not much need of raising stock in this 
part of the country," said my father jokingly ; " game 
is so plentiful." 

"The new settlers air givin' tharselves a heap o' 
trouble jes' fer the fun o' ploughin' en reapin'. They 
snap the bow-strings. They air tryin' te kill big 
game with a shot-gun, en the shot scatters all over 
the kintry. It air good 'nough fer rabbits en 
squirrels, but it don't stop a buck jumpin' er a b'ar 
from browsin'. I see a heap o' hard work fer some o' 
these here settlers what's comin' in from the ole 
kintries over East. 'Tain't wisdom. 

" Some folks air too good fer this world 'thout bein' 
plumb ready ferthenex'. Accordin' te thar reasonin', 
a praii'ie- chicken settin' on the fence air better'n two 
birds o' paradise over yander. The world air a 
sorrowin' vale, kase folks hez too many stakes in the 
groun'. Ez fer me, I kin shoot en trap all I ken eat, 
jes' plantin' 'nough corn fer hoe-cakes en a leetle 
fodder, en some taters en turnips en pum'kins ; en I 
hev a sight more smoked venison en b'ar meat in 
winter than I kin eat ez a single man with on'y one 
stommick ; en I 'low I kin give a traveller hoe-cakes 
en fried chicken all he wants to fill up on." 

Socrates sat like a lump of hewn adamant, his look 
alone being sufficient guarantee of his ability to take 
care of himself without the slightest trouble or worry. 

" Thar be folks that air trampin' over these prairies 
a-spadin' up trouble like thar warn't none te be hed 



SOCRATES GIVES ADVICE 48 

by settin' down in the city en lettin' other folks bring 
it to 'em. Thar's a heap too much corn en wheat, a 
durned sight too many kyows en bosses ; en the four- 
legged critters chaws up what the two-legged critters 
gathers in. It air wus nor dog eat dog, seein' ez how 
the four-legged critters air livin' on the fat o' the land 
while the pore planters air livin' on spar' ribs en hens 
with sinoos ez tough ez b'iled owels." 

''But it makes a great difference when a man has 
a family to support and educate," remarked my 
mother, thinlcing of the responsibility of parents. 

" I allow readin' en writin' air a good thing if ye've 
got any figurin' to do ; but cipherin's a dreflful load on 
the mind. Thar's Si Jordan yander ; he sets figurin' 
o' nights, en calculatin' te see jes' how he'll come out 
at the end o' the year ; but I allers say to myself he's 
like the groun'-hog, he won't come out." 

" Still, it would be awkward to have to calculate 
with nothing but your fingers," observed my father, 
smiling. 

" Fingers or no fingers, book-larnin' don't make a 
man no better than he war in a state o' natur'. Them 
as reads newspapers knows too much 'bout other 
folks's sins en not 'nough 'bout thar own. Over 
Decatur en Fancy Creek way they built mectin'- 
houses with steeples on 'em, en the wimin-folks tuck 
te wearin' store clothes en the men-folks put on b'iled 
shirts. But when the comet come into view the 
wimin put on their ole sun-bonnets, allowin' pink 
calico te be more'n enough te be jedged in." 

My mother, as she looked up from her knitting, 
thought his round grey eyes seemed bigger and 
rounder than ever. She noticed in his face an 



44 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

expression of naive irony and unconscious satire which 
she had not remarked before. But later there radiated 
from his face a sense of pity when he thought of all 
the hard work she would have to do. In some un- 
accountable way he had come into touch with the 
unexpressed hopes and fears of the silent man sitting 
before him, and the pale, passive face of his wife, who 
was knitting. 

Then, as if struck with a sudden, new idea, he 
said : — 

" Ye kin divide the day's doin's into two passels — • 
the happenin's en the fac's ; en thar ain't but two 
leadin' fac's in all creation — bein' born en bein' dead. 
Howsomever, right in betwixt 'em thar's some purty 
lively happenin's a steppin' roun' on all fours, ez 
when a panther takes a notion te drap on a pig's back ; 
it's a shore thing f er the panther but a dead loss fer 
the owner. En it air jest ez sartin the fact air plumb 
agin the pig, but he don't live long 'nough te know 
it. Thar's been a suddin burial, en the mourner kin 
see the fact, but he ain't never see the corpse. Any- 
how, it's an argimint thet'll work itself out ez easy 
ez a groun'-worm arter rain, en it don't make no 
pertickler difference which end comes up fust, heads 
en tails bein' purty nigh ekil." 

My father enjoyed a hearty laugh, and my mother 
stopped knitting and eyed Socrates as if trying to 
fathom the secret of his strange originality. 

" It beats my time all holler," he went on, '' te see 
folks so kind o' waverin' en onsartin. Instead o' 
waitin' fer the last hour they make fer it with thar 
heads down like a bull agin a red flag, en no tail- 
twistin' '11 stop 'em. Thar's skasely a settler among 



SOCRATES GIVES ADVICE 45 

the new uns but wliat'll tell ye they air workin' te 
live. It air workin' te die, thet's what /call it." 

" Thar's a good many workin' land they ain't got 
no title to,'' remarked Ebenezer Hicks. 

'' When I go te meetin' en hear some o' these 
settlers sing about readin' thar title cl'ar te mansions 
in the skies I allers feel like askiu' 'em how they're 
holdin' on te the land they got ; kase thar ain't but 
two kyinds o' settlers — them ez buys right out, and 
them ez squats right down, en I've allers found thet 
hymn air a dead favourite among the people thet set 
right down jes whar thar feet begin te swell. 

" What I know 'bout Bible-teachin' air plumb agin' 
squatters takin' up land t'other side Jordan. The 
Lord God hez issued a writ statin* His objections. I 
ain't never knowed a real live Yankee thet war any 
good at squattin'. They come from below the Ohio, 
whar they hev seen the niggers do all the work. En 
when they come up to this kintry they sing- about 
readin' thar title cl'ar te big slices o' land in the nex' 
world ! I tell ye what it is, if thar's ever goin' te be 
war it'll be betwix' them thet wants the land fer 
nothin' en them thet wants it fer sunthin', if it ain't 
fer more'n shootin' snipe en plover. The squatters 
air lazy ; en t'other folks, like the Squar hyar, air 
killin' tharselves by doin' too much. 

" My ole daddy larnt me te go through this 
sorrowin' vale like the varmints do — easy en nat'ral 
like, never gallopin' when ye kin lope, en never lopin' 
when ye kin lay down. It's a heap easier. Thar 
ain't a hog but knows he kin root fer a livin' if ye 
give him a fair show ; thar ain't a squirrel but knows 
how te stow away 'nough te nibble on when he wakes 



46 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

up en finds his blood's kinder coolin' down en things 
is p'intin' te zero." 

After a pause he looked hard at my father, and put 
the question abruptly : 

" What'll ye do, Squar, when ye plough up the prairie 
thar uex' year, en sow it with corn ez ye calc'late on 
doin' ? How d'ye 'low ye'll git all the work done 
'thout extry hands ? " 

It was an unexpected query that left my father 
without an immediate answer. He had never given 
the subject any serious thought. 

Socrates continued without waiting for explanations : 

" Ye'll hev a heap o' corn-huskin' te do, en ye 
suttinly ain't a-goin' te reckon on thet leetle lady with 
them hands o' her'n doin' much corn-huskin' en sech. 
'Pears like she'll hev more'n enough te keep her 
a-goin' right in the house," 

My mother was thinking : " The Lord's will be 
done. He had a reason for sending us here ; some 
day we may know why.'^^ 

Socrates resumed : 

"Hirin' extry hands means pay in' out a lot o' money; 
mebbe yer purse-strings air like yer latch- string, en 
mebbe ye got a plenty te last ye till nex' harvest 
time. Things ain't like they war ; folks useter come 
twenty mile to a corn-huskin', en the doin's ud end up 
with eatin' en drinkin' en dancin'. Now people air 
too busy with thar own funerals. They useter help 
other people work tharselves to death ; now they stay 
at home en dig thar own graves 'thout borrowing 
shovels er sendin' fer a fiddler te help 'em mourn with 
thar tired feet. I keep sayin' the comet may pass 
over 'thout drappin' ; but if the politicioners, en the 



SOCRATES GIVES ADVICE 47 

lawyers, en them ez sez they don't know nothin', en 
the hordes o' settlers thet cain't tell the difference 
betwix' a yaller dog en a long-eared rabbit ain't 
a-bringin' the world to a spot stop, then Zack 
Caverly hez missed fire, en it'll be the fust time." 

" As for that," said my father, " it certainly does 
look as if some great change would soon come over 
the country. Many are turning to religion for conso- 
lation, while others predict civil war." 

" I see some cussed mean folks pretendin' te hev 
religion. Some on 'em air thet deceivin' I allers feel 
like watchin' em with a spy-glass till they git into 
the woods en then sendin' my ole hound arter 'em te 
see they don't commit bigamy er hang themselves 
right on my diggin's." 

" Wal," said Ebenezer Hicks, who had been listen- 
ing attentively, " I 'low ye've tetched a festern sore 
when ye say some on 'em air ekil te committin' treason 
en blasphemy, but ez fer me I hev allers been a 
church member ; but some folks ain't never satisfied 
te leave things ez they wur. It's my opinion all the 
trouble hez come about in the Church by them busy- 
bodies mixin' up religion with politics. Abolition hez 
been a bone o' contention en a skewer through both 
wings o' the Methodists. You war thar when Azariah 
James preached thet sermon, windin' up by h'istin' the 
Abolition flag, en you too, Squar, en you beared what 
he said." 

" Ye'll allow he bed all creation te h'ist on," 
remarked Socrates; "the stars en stripes te begin 
with, two kyinds o' lawyers en four kyinds o' 
preachers — all on 'em ofi"'n whisk}'. T'other party 
ain't got no flag, but thar whisky makes 'em see 



48 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

the stars en they make the niggers feel the 
stripes." 

Ebenezer Hicks, wishing to turn the conversation, 
simply observed : 

" Over at Bloomington en Springfield the people 
air all fer Lincoln." 

But Socrates held to the subject and went on : 

"What beats my time is te know what you folks 
hez te do with the nigger question anyway. Did ye 
ever own any slaves ? " 

" Nary a one." 

" "Wal, then, what difference does it make te you 
whether they work ez slaves er work ez we uns work ? 
Looks like ye belong te them thet's pinin' away kase 
ye ain't got sorrers enough o' yer own te hitch to. 
When we all beared Azariah James preach — the on')'- 
time the meetin' -house hez been open all summer 
— I see right away we'd got plumb into the middle o' 
the Abolition circus en someone ud turn a somerset 
afore he got through. Fact is, the people o' this here 
State air a-gittin' ready te send Abe Lincoln te Wash- 
ington, en ole Buchanan's jes' keepin' the presidential 
cheer from warpin' till Abe comes." 

" That preacher, Azariah James," said my father, 
" was not such a fool as some of the congregation 
thought he was." 

"Not nigh," returned Socrates, as he rose from his 
seat and took his leave. 

A few days after his visit my mother remarked : 

" Now, I suppose, we shall not have any more 
visitors for a long time. There are days when I wish 
someone would call, and somehow I have been thinking 
a good deal of Mrs. Jordan lately. I should like a 



SOCRATES GIVES ADVICE 49 

visit from her more than from anyone else I know 
just at present." 

That same afternoon, as I was retui-ning to the 
house from the hollow where I had been gathering 
hazel-nuts, I thought I could discern a stranger 
through the window. I entered the house and found 
Kezia Jordan seated in the rocking-chair. 

Once more her presence opened the door to a world 
that transcended all the familiar forms of speech ; for 
it was not what she said, but what she looked, that 
impressed me so profoundly. 

Moulded and subdued by the lonely days, the 
monotonous weeks, the haunting hush of the silent 
nights, and the same thoughts and images returning 
again and again, she appeared as one who had con- 
quered the world of silence. Elihu Gest partly 
explained himself by his explanation of others, but 
Kezia Jordan made few comments, and they were 
rarely personal. She never talked for the sake of 
talking. As she sat there she might have been a 
statue, for to-day she brought with her an inexorable 
detachment from worldly thoughts and influences. 

The sentiments she inspired in me were like those 
produced by the motion of clouds on a calm moon- 
light night, or the falling of leaves on a still, dreamy 
day of Indian summer. There were moments when 
her presence seemed to possess something preternatural, 
when she imparted to others an extraordinary and 
superhuman quietude. Her spirit, freed for ever from 
the trammels and tumults of the world, seemed heed- 
less of the passing moments, resigned to every secret 
and mandate of destiny ; for hers was a freedom which 
was not attained in a single battle — the conflict was 

Y.S. B 



50 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

begun by her ancestors when they landed at Plymouth 
Eock. In the tribulations that followed the succes- 
sive generations were stripped of the superfluities of 
life. One by one vanities and illusions fell from the 
fighters like shattered muskets and tattered garments. 
Each generation, stripped of the tinsel, became 
acquainted with the folly of plaints and the futility of 
protests. Little by little the pioneers began to under- 
stand, and in the last generation of all there resulted 
a knowledge too deep for discussion and a wisdom too 
great for idle misgivings. 

Where was the hurried visitor from foreign lands 
who could sound the depths of such a soul ? 

The influences were different when Mrs. Busby 
came to the Log-House. She brought with her 
pleasant maxims about her bakings, her messes, and 
herb-medicines, and talked on and on without caring 
what the subject was. She created commotion and 
movement, and under her hands the kettle hissed and 
spouted. 

Mrs. Jordan handled things as if they had life and 
feeling, and without being conscious of influencing 
others she brought with her a power that penetrated 
to the core of things. She had passed the time when 
her duties had to be accomplished by the aid of a 
strenuous use of the reasoning faculties. She had 
arrived at that stage when religion was not a thing of 
reason, but a state of perpetual feeling. Circum- 
stances altered, conditions changed and found her the 
same, unaltered and unalterable. 

Yet she had her day-dreams, moments of rapt 
meditation which bordered on forge tfulness, when 
the formless visions and homely realities of kitchen, 



SOCRATES GIVES ADVICE 51 

meeting-house, and prairie became one, and the song 
of the blackbird and the chirping of the cricket 
seemed a part of her own life and feeling. She pos- 
sessed the dominant influence of an abiding power 
with a total absence of self-assertion, for hers was that 
true power of the soul, an influence that penetrates 
to depths which intellect alone can never reach. 

I thought the rocking-chair was made for Kezia 
Jordan, and the rag-carpet too, and somehow I could 
never quite free my mind from the impression that 
the flowers about the house were hers as well. 

Soon after my arrival a rap was heard at the door, 
and in walked Minerva Wagner, proud, lean, wrinkled, 
and unbending. She came within the category of 
those who, according to Zack Caverly, were labouring 
under the necessity of borrowing trouble. She had 
not yet recovered from the shock produced by the 
Abolition sermon of the preacher, Azariah James. 
Mrs. Wagner was our nearest neighbour to the north, 
and every time I glanced in that direction I would 
marv^el at the listless, lonely life of the family in the 
little frame house stuck like a white speck on the 
brow of the prairie, ten times more lonely and isolated 
than the Log-House we inhabited. Whenever I saw 
someone moving about over there I thought of a tomb 
opening its doors and letting out an imprisoned ghost; 
for every member of the family looked and walked and 
talked alike, except, perhaps, old Minerva Wagner, 
who stood to-day facing the inexorable present, stern, 
relentless, unable to account for anything she saw or 
heard, but choking with prejudice against what she 
persisted in calling " the Yankee trash of Indianny 
and Illinoise." 

E 2 



52 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

After some talk about pickles and bacon and apple- 
butter, and some allusion to the awful state of the 
country, brought on by the Anti-Slavery agitation, 
Mrs. Wagner took her departure, and once more the 
room assumed the calm, peaceful aspect commensurate 
with Kezia Jordan's presence. My mother made tea, 
and the moments passed as if there were no clock 
ticking the time away and no regrets for the old 
days that would never return ; and when at last 
Mrs. Jordan rose from her seat she looked more 
slender than ever in her simple dress of copperas- 
coloured jean ; and when the clouds parted and the 
setting sun shone full on the windows, her spare figure 
cast a shadow that fell across the rag-carpet, and there, 
under her feet, were strips of coloured cloth, the 
counterpart of her own dress, and it seemed as if she 
had always belonged to the Log-House and ought 
never to leave it. 



CHAPTER V 
SILAS Jordan's illness 

The solemn hush of the wilderness had its voices 
of bird and insect, wind, rain, and rustling grass ; but 
from the song of birds and grasshoppers to the noise- 
less march of the comet was a far and terrible cry, and 
more than one head of a family, seeing its approach 
nearer and nearer to the earth, sat with folded liands 
awaiting the end. While it frightened some into 
silence it made others loquacious, while others again 
could not help laughing at the comical figure some of 
the frightened ones assumed. 

No sooner did Silas Jordan see the comet than a 
great fear seized him, and he sat down in the kitchen, 
a millstone of desolation holding him in his seat. 

Hardly a day passed that I did not run up to the 
Jordans', and on this evening, instead of hearing Mrs. 
Jordan singing one of her favourite hymns, I listened 
to a monologue which contained a note of sadness. 

When Kezia came in with a chicken which she had 
just killed and was about to scald and pluck, a glance 
at her husband told her of the great and sudden 
change. 

" Dear me, suss ! Zack Caverly said ye'd be apt 
to feel a touch o' fever when ye broke that piece o' 
land down by the Log-House." 

She expected an answer, but none came, and she 
went on : 



54 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

" I don't know what we'll do with so much work 
waitin' to be done." 

She took from the highest shelf in the cupboard a 
large box of quinine pills and offered Silas two, but 
he refused them with a stubborn shake of the head. 

Mrs. Jordan put the box aside and began to pluck the 
chicken with a will that might have inspired her hus- 
band with corn-age had he noticed what she was doing. 

" It ain't no use giviu' way and broodin' over yer 
feelin's," she said, quietly. 

Alek came in and told his mother a comet was to 
be seen, and she stepped to the door to look. 

She had heard the rumours and prophecies, but they 
left her indifferent. Her deep religious faith made 
it impossible for her to worry when worry seemed 
almost a sin, and it never occurred to her that Silas 
was not ill of malaria, but of fear and despair. 

" Pap's ailin'," said Alek. " If he ain't no better 
to-morrer I'll go fer that yarb doctor that cured 
Ebenezer Hicks o' them faintin' spells." 

He had a horror of long illnesses, and would call in a 
" doctor " at the slightest sign of a break-up in health. 

The next day I was at the Jordan home again, this 
time with tempting eatables for the invalid, who, 
however, refused everything. 

The doctor arrived shortly after; then, on his heels, 
came Socrates, who, when he saw the doctor's horse 
and saddle-bags, guessed there was something wrong 
with the Jordan household. 

The doctor was looking about the room like a rabbit 
let loose in a strange place. Lank and bony, clothed 
in blue jeans, he looked a picture of unsophisticated 
ignorance. 



SILAS JORDAN'S ILLNESS 66 

"My husband's ailin'," said Mrs. Jordan, as she 
took a chair and placed it before Silas for the doctor. 

" How long's he been feelin'this a-way?" he asked, 
in a drawling voice as he sat down and took hold of 
the patient's limp hand. 

" Sence yesterday." 

" Chills en fever, I reckon," he said, looking at 
Silas with a blank stare. 

" He ain't had any chills," returned Mrs. Jordan. 

" Ain't hed no pin-feather feelins ? " 

" I don't reckon he hez." 

" No chatterin' o' the teeth ? " 

" Not ez I know of." 

" Been wanderin' in his mind ? " 

" Not ez I know of." 

" Ain't felt overly het up ? " 

" I guess not." 

" Then I reckon it's dumb ague," concluded the 
doctor at his wits' end. 

" I guess it is," said Kezia, " fer he ain't spoke a 
word sence he was took." 

The doctor now asked to see the patient's tongue, 
and after much persuasion Silas slowly put out the tip, 
then closed his jaws with a smart snap. 

" Mighty peert for a manthetcain't talk," observed 
Zack Caverly. But the doctor, more and more be- 
wildered, simply nodded his head, and then moved his 
chair back several paces as if to be well out of the reach 
of a patient who might suddenly do him an injury. 

He looked fixedly at the little wiry-faced man, not 
knowing what to say or do. 

Suddenly a thought struck him. 

" Hez he ever hed quare idees ? " 



56 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

''I don't know thet he hez, 'ceptin' he's been 
figurin' on jest how long it would take to buy out the 
folks at the big Log-House." 

"En ye say he ain't et no vittles sence yestiddy ? " 

"ISTot a morsel." 

The doctor considered for a while, pulled at his 
goatee, and said : 

" I 'low his symptomania air summat confoundin', 
but jest at this perticklcr p'int whar, ez ye might 
say, the fever hez kinder thawed out the chills, en 
the chills hez sorter nipped the fever in the bud, both 
on 'em hev been driv' in. They're a-fightin' it out 
on the liver, en a man ain't calc'lated te know jest 
how things air a-workin' up on the inside." 

" Will it last long ? " demanded Alek. 

"Wal, thar ain't no cause te be frustrated. T'other 
day I see a man over B'ar Creek way thet rolled on 
the floor f er nigh an hour, en I'm doggoned if the chills 
en fever didn't stay right whar they war. His wife 
allowed I hed giv' him too much senna en calomel, 
but it takes a powerful sight te make 'em go different 
ways — more pertickler when the chills air dumb." 

The doctor, after ordering huge doses of calomel 
and quinine, shuffled awkwardly out, and Socrates 
took Silas Jordan's hand and considered for a moment. 
Then, looking about the room, he observed : 

" If chills means bein' cold, he ain't got no chills, 
en if fever means bein' hot, he ain't got no fever." 

"What hez he, then?" inquired Alek, with a 
startled look. 

" He's got the funks ! " 

" I want to know ! " exclaimed Kezia, rising to 
face the new situation. 



SILAS JOEDAN'S ILLNESS 57 

Alek, appalled at the sound of a word he had 
never heard till now, gasped out : 

'' Is it ketchin' ? " 

'' Ketchin' ! I'd like te see ye ketch a weazil in a 
haystack," observed Zack Caverly. 

Mrs. Jordan looked at one and then at the other, 
but before she had time to say anything further, in 
came Uriah Busby. 

He had come in a great hurry. 

Of middle age, somewhat portly, and slightly bald, 
he now looked ten years older than when I saw him 
at the meeting-house. To-day his face wore a haggard 
and woe-begone expression. 

Uriah Busby had come to find out what his practical, 
cool-headed neighbour, Silas Jordan, thought of the 
comet. 

" Glad to see ye," was Kezia's gentle greeting. 

She handed him a chair, and Uriah sat down, 
heaved a deep sigh, and began to wipe his perspiring 
head and face with his big handkerchief. 

" No," resumed Socrates, where he had left off ; 
'' he ain't sick, he's only skeered." 

Uriah Busby could hardly believe his ears. He 
had come, thinking that Silas Jordan would have 
some counsel of hope to offer, and there he sat scared 
into helplessness ! 

Nevertheless, Uriah felt called upon to say something : 

" These be times of great affliction. It looks like 
the preacher war plumb right, en the Lord's hand is 
stretched agin us." 

*' Mebbe ye're right," interrupted Socrates; ''but ez 
fur ez I kin see the Lord ain't tetched any of ye with 
more'n a thumb en forefinger." 



68 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

Tlie eyes of the invalid were now wide open ; he sat 
bolt upright as if shaking oS the effects of a horrid 
nightmare, and blurted out : 

" Arter all, like ez not it ain't a-comin' our way ! " 

Uriah Busby pointed upward, his voice tremulous 
with emotion : 

" Mebbe its only a sign o' grace fer the elect." 

But Socrates simply remarked : " It's a sign ye've 
been settin' on a chinee egg like a wet hen, en it's 
'bout time ye war up en dustin'." 

Kezia's dark face was all aglow ; she looked as if 
she had no words to express what she felt. 

Uriah Busby's confusion increased with every 
remark that came from Socrates, who seemed to expose 
everyone's secret. 

" It's jest ez ye say," he stammered at last ; " if the 
Lord's willin' it's our dooty te work en not te set 
waitin'." 

" En he's been settin' there ever sence he was took," 
said Mrs. Jordan. 

" 'Pears lOte ye'll hev te pull him up like ye would 
a gympsum-weed," added Socrates. " Mebbe thet 
med'cine man hez got more sense then I 'lowed he 
had ; mebbe ez like ez not Si needs a thunderin' big 
shakin', en if we'll jes' set te work we kin bring him 
te rights. Did ye ever see a b'ar come out arter the 
fust big thaw, hoppin' roun' on two legs, this a-way, 
gettin' his sinoos sorter stretched en his blood sorter 
warmed up ? " 

He began to imitate a dancing bear, stepping first 
on one leg, then on the other, swaying, nodding, and 
bending his head, with comical glances at Silas. 

" Do like mister b'ar ; shake yerself ! " 



SILAS JORDAN'S ILLNESS 59 

And with this he pulled the invalid out of his seat 
with a sudden jerk, forcing him round and round, 
dancing, bending, and hopping, with growls and 
grimaces to harmonise with his bruin-like antics. 

" Keep it up," shouted Uriah Busby ; " it'll do him 
a heap o' good." 

Socrates kept up the hopping and swaying until 
Silas Jordan was exhausted and Alek's fear had 
changed into a broad grin that was almost laughter ; 
and hardly had the mad dance ceased when Silas 
asked for fried chicken, the chicken which Kezia had 
killed and dressed and kept for some such occasion. 

"The ways o' the Lord air past findin' out," 
remarked Uriah, wiping his face. 

"When the chicken was ready Silas walked about 
picking a wing which he held in both hands. 

" He's ez hungry ez a wolf, I do declare," said 
Kezia in a half- whisper, as she went about her duties, 
relieved of the long strain of watching and waiting. 
Then she added : 

" I never see his ekil ! " 

''I 'low ye never did, Sister Jordan," rejoined 
Socrates; "but ye're mistaken in the varmint — ye 
mean he's ez hungry ez a catamount ! " 



CHAPTER YI 

THE CABIN OF SOCRATES 

'' Sonny," said my father one afternoon, " you can 
come with me and you will have a chance of seeing 
Socrates, for I am to call at his cahin to see a drover 
on some business." 

I accepted the invitation with joy, for I never 
tired of hearing Zack Caverly talk ; even to sit and 
look at him was to me a great treat. 

Socrates was sitting at his cabin door, smoking, 
dreaming, and listening to what strange sounds might 
reach him from the woods. As he sat there he felt 
himself detached from the world, yet near enough to 
human beings to have all the society he desired. He 
thought of the new settlers, their troubles and vexa- 
tions, and he wondered how many of them were as 
free from care as himself. 

Under the cabin the hounds were sleeping, all 
cuddled up, and now, after a somewhat busy and 
exciting day, IS^ature seemed more intimate and satis- 
fying than ever. Age brought with it less and less 
ambition, less and less desire to do useless things, to 
speculate about vain theories and impending political 
events. To the mind of Socrates worry and ambition 
were unnatural and foolish things, and eternity meant 
to-day. 

As he sat at his door he felt at home in the universe. 
The wilderness was his kingdom ; his subjects, the 



THE CABIN OF SOCRATES 61 

birds and beasts ; his friends, the hound and his rifle ; 
and he rode out among the settlers like a king on a 
tour of inspection, with advice here and a greeting of 
encouragement where it was needed, and when he 
returned to his cabin, peace and contentment issued 
forth from every log. 

His cabin was his palace. A huge stag's head 
nailed over the entrance might have been taken for a 
coat-of-arms in the rough, while inside another set of 
antlers adorned the chimney -place. From the rafters 
hung the pelt of fox and wild cat ; a low couch was 
covered with a buffalo robe, and on the floor were 
some old skins of the black bear. Several trophies of 
the wolf were stretched on nails, and strings of Indian 
corn hanging about here and there made the inside of 
the cabin a picture of indolence and activity. 

Zack Caverly was the last of his peculiar mode of 
life in this part of the country, and towns and rail- 
roads would soon put an end to such a mode of living. 

The cabin adjoined a deep wood not far from a 
creek, with the prairie in front, and from his door not 
a house could be seen. 

Socrates had been here some twenty-five years, and 
knew the history of every family within a radius of 
many miles : their peculiarities, virtues, and vices. 
He could sum up the powers and failings of a new- 
comer at a glance. As for himself, he knew where 
his food would come from for a year, good weather or 
bad ; he knew the work required at his hands, using 
his own time and pleasure in doing it. For often 
when the weather was fine, and the ground dry, he 
would spend whole days hunting in the bottoms, many 
miles from home. He ploughed when it suited him, 



62 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

and reaped much in the same way. He read no books, 
did not belong to an}^ religious sect, never had been 
to school, and, owing to his wanderings in his younger 
days, had no prejudices. 

He knew the haunts and habits of all the animals 
and birds of field and forest, and the time to expect 
certain wild flowers; and he had his own weather 
signs. He loved everything wild, regarding his 
solitary mode of life as the most natural thing in 
the world. 

As the days and hours came and went, so he 
passed from one mood to another without being 
conscious of any change, without grief or regret, 
rising in the morning and lying down at night with 
the same feeling of security and contentment. And 
principally for this reason he was welcomed every- 
where, bringing with him an atmosphere of mental 
vigour and confidence at a time when these forces 
were so much needed. His mind was on the present; 
thus no time was lost in idle sorrow for events of 
yesterday. 

It was nearly dusk when we arrived at the cabin, 
and my father had not long to wait for the drover. 
Soon after Socrates set about getting us supper of 
bacon, eggs, hoe-cakes, and coffee, which we ate with 
keen appetites. 

Shortly after supper was over Elihu Gest, the Load- 
Bearer, came driving up, and hitched his team to one 
of the logs near the door. He was on his way home 
from the post-office. 

" I war kinder moved te come aroun' en see ye," 
he said. 

"Eight glad ye come ; ye're allers welcome ez long 



THE CABIN OF SOCRATES 63 

ez I'm alive en kickin','' answered Socrates, with his 
usual good humour. 

" The feelin' come jest ez I got te the cross-roads, 
thar by Ebenezer Hicks's cornfield." 

Just then Lem Stephens rode up. 

Socrates had come out to greet the Load-Bearer, and 
the three men sat down on the logs while I sat at one 
side. My father and the drover were inside discussing 
some matters of business. 

But oh ! how shall I depict the company outside ? 
the objects fading in the deepening dusk, the stars 
growing brighter every moment, the stillness broken 
now and again by the cries of the whip-poor-will and 
the conversation of the three men ! 

After a long spell of cloudy weather the sky had 
cleared ; the air was warm and dry, and when dark- 
ness closed in the night came with a revelation. 
IS" ever in that region had such a night been seen by 
living man, for a comet himg suspended in the 
shimmering vault, like an immense silver arrow, 
dominating the world and all the constellations. 

An unparalleled radiance illumined the prairie in 
front of the cabin ; the atmosphere vibrated with a 
strange, mysterious glow; and as the eye looked 
upward it seemed as if the earth was moving slowly 
towards the stars. 

The sky resembled a phantasmagoria seen from 
the summit of some far and fabulous Eden. The 
Milky Way spread across the zenith like a confluence 
of celestial altars flecked with myriads of gleaming 
tapers, and countless orbs rose out of the luminous 
veil like fleecy spii'es tipped with the blaze of opal and 
sapphire. -.-. 



64 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

The great stellar clusters appeared like beacons on 
the shores of infinite worlds, and night was the window 
from which the soul looked out on eternity. 

The august splendour of the heavens, the atmosphere, 
palpitating with the presence of the All-ruling Spirit, 
diffused a feeling of an inscrutable power reaching 
out from the starry depths, enveloping the whole 
world in mystery. 

I sat and gazed in awe and silence. 

Socrates was quietly smoking a corn-cob pipe, while 
Elihu Gest, rapt in wonder, contemplated the heavens 
as if seeking an answer to his innermost thoughts. 

" I knowed we war clost to it," he exclaimed at 
last, referring to the comet ; " the hand o' the Lord 
air p'intin' straight ! " 

He stopped to meditate again, and no one broke 
the silence for some little time. 

Then he proceeded : 

" I've seen it afore, but never like this. 'Pears 
like over around here the hull heavings air clairer, 
and the stars look like they war nigher the yearth." 

" Be you on risin' groun' ? " asked Lem Stephens, 
addressing Socrates. 

" Not onless it's riz sence we've been settin' here." 

" I allowed ye warn't," said Lem; " but I thought 
mebbe I war mistaken." 

" It's the feelin's a man hez when mericles air 
a-bein' worked," said the Load-Bearer, with familiar 
confidence. " A man's thoughts en feelin's ain't 
noways the same when the Lord begins te manifest 
His power. He ain't afeared te show His hand ; but 
I ain't never see a kyard-player thet'll let ye look at 
his kyards." 



THE CABIN OF SOCRATES 65 

*' 'Kase it air we uns thet do the shufflin'," observed 
Socrates ; " Providence allers leads and allers wins. 
But some o' these settlers knows what spades air, I 
reckon." 

" En some '11 suttinly know what clubs air if they 
keep on with thar nigger stealin'," spoke up Lem 
Stephens, 

To this the Load-Bearer paid no attention. His 
thoughts were on the signs of the times and the man 
who was to lead in the great struggle. 

" Thar's a new dispensation a-comin'," he said with 
calm conviction ; " but it warn't made plain what it 
ud be till I heerd Abe Lincoln en Steve Douglas 
discussin' some p'ints o' law fer the fust time. When 
I heerd Lincoln war a-goin' te speak I sez : ' Now's 
yer time. If ye miss this chance ye won't mebbe hev 
another.' When I got thar I see Jedge Douglas war 
'p'inted te opin the meetin'." 

" Thet give ye a chance te see how the leetle giant 
ud look along side o' the six-footer," interrupted 
Socrates. " When I heerd the Jedge he give chapter 
en verse for every hole he bored in the Kepublican 
plank; but when Abe Lincoln riz up he held some 
thunderin' big Abolition nails te plug 'em with. 
'Beared like he ez much ez sez te Steve Douglas : 
^ You jes' keep on borin' en I'll do the drivin' ; it's a 
heap easier ; fer when you fellers git through borin' 
I'll hev my plank nailed te the constitution o' this 
hull kintry ! ' " 

"I low Steve Douglas bed the law on his side," 

rejoined Elihu Gest ; " but lawyer Lincoln hedn't been 

speakin' more'n ten minutes afore I see he war a-bein' 

called on, en 'peared like I could hear the words, 

v.s. F 



66 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

' jedgment, jedgment ! ' a-soundin' in the air ; en if all 
the prairies o' this here State hed been sot on fire, I'd 
a-sot thar till he'd a-spoke the last word ! " 

'' Shucks ! " exclaimed Socrates ; "I don't reckon 
Steve Douglas keers ; but I 'spect he see it warn't no 
use sassin' back." 

Lem Stephens struck the log several hard, quick 
blows with his wooden leg. 

''But laws! What kin words en book-larnin' do 
agin the Ten Commandments ? " ejaculated the Load- 
Bearer. 

" I reckon Jedge Douglas war relyin' on saft sodder ; 
but it won't hold the spout te the kittle if the fire's 
anyways over het and the water's mos' b'iled away," 
said Socrates. 

" Ez I war a-goin' te say," continued Elihu Gest, 
" 't ain't words ez counts ez much ez it air the feelin's. 
A politician's 'bout the same in this here ez a 
preacher : he hez te possess the sperit if he wants the 
power. Accordin' te my thinkin' he hez te throw it 
out till it kivers the hull meetin'." 

" I b'lieve ye're right," assented Socrates non- 
chalantly. " I've beared the leetle giant more'n 
oncet, en I 'low he did look spry en plump, en ez 
boundin' ez a rubber ball. But it ain't the boss thet 
jumps the highest thet kin carry the fui'dest, en I 
reckon a man's got te be convicted hisself afore he 
convicts ary other." 

" The sperit air more in th' eye than it air in the 
tongue," said Elihu Gest, rising from his seat ; "if 
Abe Lincoln looked at the wust slave-driver long 
enough, Satan would give up every time." 

" 'Fears like ye're right," observed Socrates again. 



THE CABIN OF SOCRATES 67 

The Load - Bearer continued, with increasing 
emphasis : 

"I see right away the difference a-twixt Lincoln 
en Doughis warn't so much in Lincoln bein' a good 
ways over six foot en Douglas a good ways under, ez 
it war in thar eyes. The Jedge looked like he war 
speakin' agin time, but Abe Lincoln looked plumb 
through the meetiu' into the Everlastin' — the way 
Moses must hev looked when he see Canaan ahead — 
en I kin tell ye I never did see a man look thet 
a- way." 

" The Jedge is some pum'kins fer squeezin' hisself 
in, but I reckon the six-footer hez got the rulin' hand 
this time." 

" They're at the cross-roads ! " ejaculated Lem 
Stephens ; " but them thar Abolitionists air in a 
howlin' wilderness, en the partin' o' the ways don't 
lead nowheres ; thar ain't no sign-posts, not in this 
'ere case. I've been lost more'n oncet by takin' the 
wrong road jes' when I felt dead sartin I war on the 
right track. Gee whizz ! I kin take ye te a place 
over near Edwardsville whar nothin' walkin' on two 
legs kin tell the difference a-twixt the p'ints in com- 
pass on a cloudy day ; en even when the sun's 
a-shinin' ye've got te smell the way jes' like a hound, 
fer seein' don't do no good. 

"I'll tell ye what it is, in this 'ere business whar 
politics is right on the cross-roads they want sunthin' 
more'n two eyes te see with. A man's got te know 
whar he's a-goin'. I see an Injun oncet put his ear 
te the groun' te tell which road te take. Arter a 
while he got up, give his breast a thump, en struck 
out ez if he war a blood-hound arter a nigger. En 

F 2 



68 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

don't ye go te thinkin' he tuck the wrong road 
neither. How d'ye allow they air goin' te free the 
niggers ? They ain't got no weepons, en the slave- 
owners air a sight cuter with shootin'-irons nur the 
Abolitionists be. Ever sence Daniel Boone settled 
t'other side the Ohio the white folks o' the South hev 
been aimin' at movin' targets — all kyinds o' birds en 
varmints, flyin' en runnin', includin' niggers en Injuns." 

"Ez fer settin' on 'em free," said the Load-Bearer, 
*' I ain't allowin' nothin' but God Almighty's hand ; 
en shorely with thet comet up yander we air movin' 
into conflictin' times. If I hed any doubts my mind 
war set at rest when I beared Abe Lincoln speak ; if 
he hed jes' riz up en looked at the folks they would 
a-felt his power jes' the same." 

" I've seen him," said Zack Caverly, " when he 
played mournin' tunes on their heart-strings till they 
mourned with the mourners." 

Elihu Gest straightened himself up, and the tone of 
his voice changed. 

"But somehow it 'peared like Abe Lincoln would 
hev such loads ez no man ever carried sence Chiist 
walked in Israel. When I went over fer to hear him 
things looked mighty onsartin; 'peared like I hed 
more'n I could stand up under ; but he hadn't spoke 
more'n ten minutes afore I felt like I never hed no 
loads. I begin te feel ashamed o' bein' weary en com- 
plainin'. When I went te hear him I 'lowed the Lord 
might let me carry some loads away, but I soon see 
Abe Lincoln war ekil te carry his'n en mine too, en I 
sot te wonderin' 'bout the workin's o' Providence. 

"But ye war only listenin' to an Abolitionist 
a-stumpin' this hull tarnation kedentry," remarked 



THE CABIN OF SOCRATES 69 

Lem Stephens with all the bitterness he could put 
into the words. 

" Arter all, I reckon religion en politics air 'bout 
the same," broke in Socrates. 

" Sin in politics," answered the Load-Bearer, " air 
ekil te sin in religion — thar ain't no dividin' line," 
a remark which made Lem Stephens begin a loud 
and prolonged tattoo on the log with his wooden 
stump. 

"Pete Cart Wright," he blurted out, "hez allers 
been agin Abe Lincoln; how d'ye kyount for it ? " 

" I 'low brother Cartwright hez worked a heap o' 
good ez a preacher," was the cool reply of Elihu Gest, 
" but things ain't a-goin' te be changed by preachin' 
alone. There'll be fire en brimstone fer some, er that 
blazin' star up yander don't mean nothin', en thar ain't 
no truth in the Scriptur's." 

There were sounds as of something rushing through 
the underbrush and the crackling of dry timber some 
distance away, and when I looked in that direction I 
saw what seemed a faint flash of a lantern. One of 
the hounds under the cabin gave signs of uneasiness. 

The Load-Bearer continued, lowering his voice : 

" I feel like I did afore the war with Mexico, 'cept 
we didn't see no comet then." 

" They did make a confounded fuss over thet war," 
observed Socrates, " en I remember Clay en Calhoun 
having it hot over sunthin' er nuther ; both on 'em 
faced the music fer a reelin' breakdown. Clay sez to 
Calhoun, ' Ye've been expoundin' a p'int o' law I ain't 
never diskivered in the book o' statues. Yer argiments 
air shaky, en yer jedgmints aii* ez splashy ez the 
Mississippi in flood-time. The hull nation's cavin' 



70 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

in, en thar ain't a man among ye knows 'nough. te 
plug things up en stop the leakin'. 

" But Calhoun put the question ez peert ez a blue- 
jay : ' What's a-leakin ? ' sez he ; ' tain't the ship o' 
State, it's the whisky barrel.' 

" ' Jes' so,' says Henry Clay, ez sassy ez a cat-bird in 
nestin' time ; ^ you en yer party hev knocked the plug 
out, but me en my party air a-goin' te double dam 
thet leakin.' 

" Old Hickory I see oncet at a Methodist meetin'. 
Pete Cartwright war a-preachin' when Old Hickory 
walked in. The presidin' elder sez te the preacher : 
' Thet's Andrew Jackson ' ; but Pete Cartwright didn't 
noways keer. 'Who's Andrew Jackson ? ' he sez. * If 
he's a sinner God'll damn him the same ez He would 
a Guinea nigger.' En he went right on preachin'." 

"Thar's nothin' I despise so much ez an Abolition 
Methodist," ejaculated Lem Stephens. '' Tar en 
feathers air a heap too good fer some on 'em." 

This remark was evidently intended for the Load- 
Bearer, but he seemed not to hear. 

"When ye're corn-huskin'," said Socrates, "ye put 
on gloves, but ye take 'em off when ye're gropin' 
roun' for sinners' souls. Some preachers en politicioners 
take holt like they war the hounds en the people a 
passel o' varmints. But a preacher thet knows what 
he's about allers takes the p'iats iv a meetin' like he 
would the p'ints iv a horse. He hez te spy out the 
kickers en the balky ones, en wust iv all, them thet's 
half mustang en half mule, en act accordin'. 

" I 'low a man kin do a sight with flowin' words en 
saft soap, but ez fer the mules en cross-breeds, saft 
soap won't tetch 'em." 



THE CABIN OF SOCRATES 71 

''I agree with ye thar, brother Caverly," said the 
Load-Bearer ; " when the meetin's anyways conflictin' 
it air mighty hard te deal with the Word : some wants 
singin', some wants preachin', en some wants pray in'." 

" I reckon it air ez ye say ; but ye might ez well 
send a retriever arter dead ducks with a tin kittle tied 
te his tail ez te try te land some sinners with a long 
string o' prayers. A man's got te roll up en wade in 
hisself if he wants te find them thet's been winged. 
"When folks sets en blinks like brown owels, 'thout 
flappin' a wing er losin' a feather, I want te know 
what a pore preacher kin do ! 'Tain't easy te tell 
who's been tetched." 

'' Thar's a sight o' difference a-twixt what a preacher 
hez te do en what a politician hez," answered Elihu 
Gest. "A preacher hez te wrastle with the sin's o' 
the world every time he stands afore the people." 

" Ye see," continued Zack Caverly, filling his pipe, 
"the 'sponsibility ain't the same. In the meetin'- 
house the man o' God ain't got but one kyind te 
wrastle with, en thet air sinners. He's arter game 
what cain't fly, seein' ez how they ain't angels yit; 
en ez they'se occupyin' the floor he's 'bleeged te 
shoot low, allowin' the crows a-settin' on the fence to 
set right whar they be. 

"But a politicioner's in a heap wuss fix; he's 
'bleeged to deal with them what's on the fence, kase 
he knows the crows air jes' waitin' to see which side 
the fattest worms air a-comin' up on. But them thet's 
plumb full o' religion ain't got no room fer worms." 

He lit his pipe, took a few puffs, and then went on : 

" I 'low them lawyers en j edges en stump-speakers 
over at Springfield ain't fishin' fer snappin' turtles 



72 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

with nothin' but red feathers from a rooster's tail. A 
politicioner nowadays hez got to be ez cunnin' ez a 
possum thet's playin' dead, en a heap cuter 'n a cata- 
mount a-layin' roun' fer the hull hog — fer if he ain't 
he'll be ketched hisself . Think o' the all-fired perdica- 
mints they find tharselves in ! Talk about wrastlin' 
with sin en Satan, Elihu ! Why, thar ain't a stump- 
meetin' but what aEepublican hez te spar the Demicrats 
on a p'int o' law, en trip up the Know-nothin's on a 
question o' niggers ; en while the Whigs air fannin' 
him with brick-bats he's mighty lucky if he ain't 
'spected te hold a candle te the devil while he's 
a-bein' robbed o' purty nigh all his cowcumbers en 
water-melons en more'n half his whisky en character." 

At this moment the sudden arrival of three men on 
horseback interrupted the conversation. 

" Good evening, gentlemen," said the leader ; "have 
you heard of any runaways about here within the last 
day or two ? " 

" I ain't beared o' none ; they don't never come this 
way," Socrates replied. 

" We're lookiDg for three runaway slaves that are 
said to be somewhere in this vicinity." 

'' 'Bout how long hev they been out ? " asked Lem 
Stephens. 

"We lost track of them two days ago; they are 
somewhere near this creek." 

" How many be they ? " 

"Two women and a boy; there's a reward of five 
hundred dollars." 

" Let me go with ye," said Lem Stephens, hurriedly 
going towards his horse ; " en if we don't see nothin' 
of 'em to-night I'll help ye find 'em in the mornin." 



THE CABIN OF SOCRATES 73 

After some futile words the three men and Lem 
Stephens wished iis good-night and rode away. 

By a sudden turn in the chain of events we had 
been brought to the verge that divides the high level 
of freedom from the abyss of bondage, and a feeling 
of distress seized hold of the company. The two men 
could find no words for speech. But out of the depths 
of the night the voices of Nature assailed them : from 
the woods behind us came the hooting and cries of 
owl and wild cat, from the prairie came tiny insects 
that floated past with buzzing whispers in the ears of 
conscience, crickets sent a thrill of warning from under 
the logs, tree-toads whistled near the creek, and a 
whip-poor-will soared and called over the cabin and 
the ghostly outlines of the woods. 

Everything was fi'ee except the fugitives hovering 
somewhere near the cabin : birds and animals could 
roam about at will ; the comet had the universe for a 
circuit ; Socrates, in his humble cabin, was a king in 
his easy independence ; my father, with all his cares, 
could go and come as he pleased ; Elihu Gest, in spite 
his " loads," enjoyed the freedom of the earth as far as 
his eyes could see or his horses carry him ; and now, 
perhaps within a few hundred yards of us, three 
human beings were still panting in the throes of 
bondage. 

But the time had come to speak, and as my father 
and the drover joined us the Load-Bearer said : 

" It air the mother en her boy en gal. I 'low they 
ain't a-agoin' te be separated in this world." 

"Ye talk ez if ye knowed all about it," remarked 
Socrates; "but they'll be ketched afore to-morrer 
noon if they air anywhar's roun' here." 



74 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

" I'm only tellin' ye my idee, en I reckon ye '11 find 
I'm right." 

The Load-Bearer walked to the other side of the 
cabin and stood for some moments without speaking. 

'' Jes' you keep still en set right whar ye be till I 
come back," he said, returning towards us. 

He walked along the road where it bordered the 
woods. The three mounted men had come down this 
road. We all wondered what impulse could have 
induced him to take that direction. 

The Load-Bearer had not been gone more than two 
or three minutes before Zack Caverly's favourite 
hound set up a plaintive whining under the cabin. 

" Spy ! Keep still thar ! " said his master. 

"Ye see," he went on, "that ole dog's got wind 
o' sunthin' quare. I've larned 'em all te keep ez 
still ez mice when me en other folks air about, but 
thar's sunthin' unusual a-gettin' ready er Spy wouldn't 
ez much ez sneeze. He beats all the dogs I ever hed. 
Thet hound kin smell ! En ez fer hearin', I b'lieve 
he kin hear what's a-goin' on most any whar 's. 

" But ye wouldn't think he could tell shucks from 
hoe-cakes, his looks air so innercent en pleadin' ! He 
useter be the best fighter among 'em, but now he 
knows 'tain't wisdom te be brash. 

" It took me nigh on three year te larn him the 
difference a-twixt wolf en b'ar, er skunk en wild cat, 
en all the other varmints, en thet ain't sayin' nothin' 
'bout two-legged creatur's. Ye see, it war this a- way : 
I war 'bleeged te p'int te the head iv any varmint 
thet hed been shot er trapped, usin' only one word, 
en thet word meanin' the varmint ; en by callin' the 
names over en over ag'in he got te know what I meant 



THE CABIN OF SOCKATES 75 

■when I asked : ' Air it wolf ? ' ' Air it bar' ?' en so on 
plumb down tc ' 'Air it nigger ? ' " 

Socrates now called on the honnd to come out. 

Spy came to his master, and, looking into his face, 
seemed to expect some command. Socrates began: 

" Ail' it wolf ? " The dog gave no sign. "Air it 
b'ar ? " Still no response. " Air it nigger ? " The old 
dog gave unmistakable signs of assent. 

"Them runaways ain't fur off," said Socrates; "but 
I ain't a-goiu' to let Spy go arter 'em, he might skeer 
'em away from Elihu ; en he'll bring 'em in if they're 
alive en kickin'. If thar's anyone in this hull kintry 
ez know's more'n thet ole hound it air Elihu Gest. 
He's arter loads day en night, en he ain't happy onless 
he's gettin' hisself into a bushel o' trouble. Ole Spy 
en him war clost friends from the word Go, en I 
reckon Elihu hez rescued more runaways than ary 
other Abolitionist in this deestric' ; but they ain't 
never ketched him at it ; they might ez well look fer 
a sow's ear in a b'ar's den." 

I thought I could hear the sound of voices in the 
direction the Load-Bearer had gone, but I soon began 
to think I must have been mistaken, for not till nearly 
half-an-hour later did we hear him coming towards 
the cabin. 

He was walking as fast as he could, with a boy in 
one arm and a woman leaning on the other. 

" Great Jehosephat ! '' exclaimed Socrates ; "if Elihu 
ain't got more'n enough fer a load. But he's mistaken 
'bout thar bein' three on 'em. I 'low two's enough, 
sech ez they be." 

Elihu Gest came full into view; even with his firm 
support the woman hanging on his arm was hardly 



76 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

able to walk. But scarcely had lie put down the boy 
when another figure was seen approaching. It was 
the woman's daughter — a handsome octoroon of about 
seventeen — hobbling along with the aid of a crutch 
made from a dry branch. 

"I'll be durned if he warn't right arter all," 
observed Socrates, hurrying into the cabin to make 
a fire. 

"We got plenty time ; them thet's scoutin' roun' 
these diggin's won't be back ag'in to-night." 

The fugitives were placed on the ground, with the 
logs behind them as props, and the Load-Bearer 
asked : 

" 'Bout how long air it sence ye hed any vittles ?" 

I could not hear the answer, but Elihu Gest 
exclaimed : 

" Three days without vittles, en all on 'em mos' 
dead!" 

Elihu made haste with the coffee, while Socrates 
was hurrying with the supper. 

Once in a while a groan came from the group of 
figures. The sound mingled with the mysteries of 
the surrounding darkness. It put fresh courage into 
the heart of the Load-Bearer, and strengthened him 
to assume still greater burdens. Socrates worked in 
silence, and during this time we were all wojidering 
what ought to be done with the fugitives. To let 
them be caught was out of the question, but what to 
do with them after they had partaken of supper was 
a point that puzzled everyone. My father thought it 
dangerous to leave them so near the cabin. 

To the great relief of all, the drover mounted his 
horse and rode away, perhaps not wishing to become 



THE CABIN OF SOCRATES 77 

involved in any responsibility and to steer clear of a 
situation which might compromise him in the eyes of 
the law. 

^'Looky here," remarked Zack Caverly to the Load- 
Bearer, "ye don't reckon he's goin' over Lem Stephens' 
way, do ye ? " 

" I don't rekon he air ; 'pears like he allers turns 
off thar by Ebenezer Hicks's cornfield." 

The coffee was ready and the Load-Bearer and 
Socrates were serving it out in the big blue china 
cups which we had used at our supper — the bacon 
and hoe-cakes would soon follow. 

Every moment now seemed like an hour. 

My father, Elihu, and Socrates went into the cabin 
to talk over the affair and decide on what to do. 

They were coming out of the cabin when the 
drover returned bringing the news that the slave- 
catchers had decided to pay Socrates another visit 
that night. 

It did not take long for the Load-Beai-er to come 
to a decision. He called for aid, and one by one the 
three runaways were lifted into his wagon. 

" Whar be ye goin', Elihu? They've seed ye 
here, en ye'll be called on shore en sartin." 

" I don't know no more'n you ; but I ain't a-goin' 
te stop till God Almighty tells me." 

He drove off into the night, taking the road to the 
east. We followed on the same road shortly after, 
but met no one on the way home. When we arrived 
at the Log-House we found that it, too, had been 
visited by the slave-hunters. 



CHAPTER YII 

AT THE POST-OFFICE 

One morning I went with my father to the post- 
office, which was in a small store by the railway 
station, about six miles distant. 

How bleak and forsaken it was ! The place con- 
sisted of two houses and some freight cars shunted off 
the main line. The prairie here had a desolate look, 
but to the north lay a wooded district, and here my 
father brought me to stand on a small embankment to 
watch the train coming up around a curve out of the 
woods. 

The sight made an impression that was lasting, for 
at this moment it is just as vivid as it was then. It 
made my nerves tingle and opened the door to a new 
world of wonders. The train itself, filled with pas- 
sengers, did not interest me : it was the engine, with 
its puffing steam, its cow-catcher, and its imposing 
smoke-stack, that possessed the attraction. 

The day soon came, however, when the locomotive 
took the second place in my imagination and the pas- 
sengers the first. What, after all, was the steam- 
engine compared with human beings, animals, and 
birds ? What was its smoke and movement com- 
pared with pictures of earth, sky, and water ? At 
rest, the locomotive ceased to interest ; but the aspect 
of the world was always changing. A landscape 
had its four seasons. Every manifestation of Nature 



AT THE POST-OFFICE 79 

harmonised with some mood or condition of the mind, 
and I watched the buzzards and blue-birds, the cranes 
and chick-a-dees, the rabbits and squirrels, with 
renewed and ever-increasing interest. Nature changed, 
but never grew stale. The air was full of song and 
colour, the earth full of forms and movement, and the 
rapid motion of a garter-snake was, after all, more 
fascinating than the movement of an engine with its 
train of cars ; and how could the noise of the puffing 
compare with a chorus of red-winged blackbii'ds ? 
Nature is the one perennial charm. 

But this was not the opinion of poor Monsieur 
Duval, one of the unfortunate settlers who had mis- 
taken the wilderness for a ready-made paradise. All 
the loungers at the post-office looked like members of 
the same family excepting this Frenchman and a 
German settler whom they called " Dutchy." Duval 
resembled a shipwrecked mariner among the inhabi- 
tants of some remote island, the secret of whose 
language and customs he could not fathom. But he 
and the German were full of life, while the others 
seemed too listless and lazy to do more than whittle 
sticks and once in a while hit a certain spot by an 
expectoration of tobacco- juice. 

The scene was set-off by rows of tea- canisters, 
coffee-sacks, bolts of calico, sugar-barrels, bacon, rice, 
and plug- tobacco, with sundry farming implements 
stored at the back, and a few pigeon-holes for letters. 

The shuffling figure of the goateed proprietor stood 
in the midst of all, a little taller and perhaps a little 
more languid than any of the others, too indifferent to 
talk, yet putting in a word now and again mechanically 
without stopping to calculate the effect of what he 



80 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

said and without being interested in any person or 
thing. He aroused my interest as soon as he said to 
my father : 

" Wal, I'm going to wind her up — goin' to vamose." 

" Going to leave us ? " 

" Ya-as," he drawled ; " goin' to wind up and move 
on." 

A man sitting on the edge of a large box, half-filled 
with empty sacks, called out : 

" Which a- way ? " 

" Over to Pike kyounty," was the answer. 

The Frenchman, who was standing against the 
counter, straightened up. 

"Me, too," he exclaimed, tapping his bosom once 
for each word, " me, too, I wind her up, I go 
vamose." 

" Goin' to sell out, too ? " 

" If I no sell heem I geef heem way," he answered 
with a gesture of supreme disgust. 

"How long have you been here?" asked the 
storekeeper. 

" Two, tree year." 

" Hardly long enough to give the country a fair 
trial," said my father. 

" Try heem ! I geef him plenty tam. Ze farm he 
try me lak Job was try wiz hees sheep an' hees 
camelle! " 

" Have you had much illness ? " 

" Do I look seek ? My wife, my son, meself, we 
work lak niggair. We haf no tam for eat, no tam for 
sleep, no tam for wash ourself." 

" You must have taken up too much land. Most of 
the trouble comes from that." 



AT THE POST-OFFICE 81 

" No, monsieur, we no haf too much, but we been 
too much for ze land." 

" I suppose you are from some part of the 
South ? " 

" Me, I come from New Orleans. I haf one big 
family ; I lose heem wiz ze yellow fevair. My 
friends say, ' You go up ze Mississippi, you 'scape 
ze fevair.' I tak my wife an' son to Saint-Louis. 
Some one say, 'You tak one farm in Illinois, ze soil 
she been so rich you scratch heem two, tree tarn wiz 
hoe, everyzing come up while you look ! ' Wen I 
come on ze farm ze soil she been too hard for scratch ; 
I get one plough, so long, for cut ze big root, an four 
pair ox for pool her. But ze wild cat come in ze 
night ; she clam up ze tree an' tak ze turkey ; ze fox 
brak in ze hen-house an' tak ze chicken. In ze 
morning I find ze haid an' some feddair." 

He stopped to consider a moment, then continued : 
" I keep some bee for mak bees' wax. I go look — 
I find ze hive sprawl on ze groun', zey haf left me 
nozzing ! " 

'' What animal do you suppose it was ?" 
'' Tell me, monsieur, do ze fox lak for eat ze bee ? 
Do ze wild cat lak for chew ze bees' wax 1 Do ze 
mink lak for haf her nose sting '? Ah, monsieur, I 
lak for some one tell me zat ! " 

Duval gave a fierce look at the man sitting on the 
box, for he had just fallen over on the sacks in a 
spasm of laughter, his feet in the air, and we con- 
cluded he could tell what had become of the French- 
man's bees if he chose. 

''But zat is not ze worst," he went on. " One tam 
I haf ver' good crop. Ze com, ze legume, ze poomkin, 
v.s. o 



82 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

she been all plant an' come up. But ze army-worm 
she come! I^ext day I go look — she leave me 
nozzing but ze cobble-stone." 

Then, as if he had forgotten something, he added : 

" Ze cow come home an' I go for milk her — she 
been dry lak my old boot; ze worm haf eat her 
foddair ! " 

He let his arms fall in a limp gesture of resignation, 
and taking from his pocket a cheap cigar, and leaning 
with one arm on the counter, he began smoking, 
letting out great puiFs through his nose as if in this 
way he were getting rid of all the evil things con- 
nected with pioneer life. 

The hang-dog faces of the men sitting and lolling 
about were enlivened by grins, and ironical remarks 
were freely indulged in. 

" Say, Frenchy," said the man sitting on the box, 
" what'U ye take te hire out jes' te keep away b'ars 
en' skunks ? " 

Duval gave the man one contemptuous look. Evi- 
dently he was not going to answer. He smoked while 
he walked carelessly towards the box, and when 
within a few feet of it made a sudden, cat-like bound 
at the man, clutching his throat with the grip of a 
frenzied gorilla while he forced him down into the 
box head foremost. 

The onlookers, stunned by the suddenness of the 
attack, seemed dazed and helpless, staring at the 
scene as if held by some horrible fascination. Then a 
gurgling sound came from the victim, causing someone 
to cry out : 

*' I'll be hanged if he ain't chokin' him to death ! " 

" I'm durned if he ain't ! " exclaimed someone else. 



AT THE POST-OFFICE 83 

" Haul hira off ! " shouted the store-keeper, roused 
out of his lethargy; "we don't want no dead men 
round here ! " 

The store-keeper, assisted by one of the man's 
friends, began to tug at the Frenchman. Hardly had 
they done so when a man with a knife made a rush 
for Duval ; but the " Dutchman " was waiting his 
chance ; he felled him to the floor by one quick blow 
from his great, open hand, the hard, thick palm and 
huge, long fingers making a splitting noise like a 
blade of steel on a sheet of ice. 

" No ! By sheemany ! " he growled, as he picked 
up the knife and shook it in their faces, " You don't 
come dem games here ! Ven you gif me dat shifferee 
I hef some buckshot ready, but mine vife she don't 
let me shoot nodding. Now I gif you someding mit 
interest," and with that he brought the same open 
hand down on the man who had helped to pull Duval 
off his victim. He fell to the floor as if struck with a 
mallet, and I shuddered, for he seemed to be stone 
dead. This was the third surprise within a few 
seconds. The man in the box was not yet able to 
rise to his feet, but Duval was looking about him 
ready for more work and well inclined to keep it 
going. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was all 
a-fire. He stood like some ferocious animal in the 
arena ready for any opponent, with a firm faith in his 
two hands, his two legs, his nimble body and his quick 
wit, while the "Dutchman " had good reason to pin 
his faith to a pair of broad palms, which resembled the 
paws of a bear in thickness, and a body unimpaired 
by fiery whisky and malarial fever. 

Two of the gang were now placed hors de combat, 

Q 2 



84 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

and this without the use of knives or firearms. It 
was now four against two, and the Frenchman had 
evidently summed up the situation at a glance ; with 
a quick, twisting movement he turned his body like a 
practised wrestler, and the man standing beside him 
found himself sprawling on the floor, his feet knocked 
from under him by the deft manoeuvres of Duval's 
foot. 

All was now over. After this the gang resembled 
nothing so much as a pack of whipped dogs, and the 
stillness that reigned in the store had something of 
the stillness of the battle-field after the fury of the 
battle. 

Duval and the *' Dutchman " left the store together 
and became close friends from that day. 



CHAPTER YIII 

MY VISIT TO THE LOAD-BEAREr's HOME. 

Mr mother was busy getting ready for another 
baking. She had baked the day before, and I could 
not help wondering what all the extra bread was for. 

I had not long to wait for an answer to my thoughts : 
she stopped in the middle of her work, cleaned the 
rolling pin of dough, and went to the pantry, where 
she stood and looked for some moments at the things 
inside. 

" Oh, dear ! " she said, with one of her gentle sighs 
which I always understood so well ; " there is not 
much, but what there is must go to-day, and in a day 
or two I shall send more." 

Out came all the bread and the meat and a pound 
of coffee, with sugar. These were stored away in the 
saddle-bags, for she said it was too far to walk and I 
would have to saddle my pony. 

"But where to ? " I asked with surprise. 

" To Mrs. Gest's ; these things are for her." 

" The Load-Bearer married ! " I exclaimed. 

" Why, of course he's married, like all good Chris- 
tians," she observed, smiling; "and you'll be married 
too, some day, when the proper time comes." 

I had pictured him as a kind of hermit, living some- 
where all alone, perhaps being fed by ravens, like 
Elijah the prophet ; and even now I could hardly 
believe that he had a regular, fixed abode. 



86 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

I was to tell Mrs. Gest she could count on my 
mother's aid when she had " visitors from the South," 
which meant fugitive slaves trying to reach Canada. 

The affair at the cabin of Socrates had been discussed 
between my parents, and this was the result. 

No member of the family had ever been to the home 
of Elihu Gest. We knew he lived near a large creek, 
some four or five miles south-west of the meeting- 
house, so off I went in the full belief that I would 
find the place by asking here and there on the way. 

The country beyond the meeting-house was like 
another world to me. The prairie, the dim outline of 
the woods beyond, the atmosphere, all combined to 
produce a sense of freshness and novelty, and the 
effect on my mind could not have been greater had I 
gone a hundred miles from home. 

After riding what seemed to me a long distance a 
man in a wagon directed me to a road bordering a 
strip of wood which led into a region of trees and 
underbrush, with patches of prairie here and there, 
and vistas of the creek and the undulating ground 
beyond. The land had a gentle slope towards the 
water. The beech trees rose to a great height, and 
now and then, through an opening in the woods, I 
could see a distance of two miles ; but in most places 
the world all around was hidden by rocky knobs, thick 
underbrush and immense trees. 

'' What a place to hide in ! " I thought ; and I was 
beginning to fear my search for the house would not 
end in success, when I heard the barking of a dog some 
considerable distance to the left. Stopping to consider 
what to do, I detected faint tracks of wagon wheels 
leading in that direction. I followed as best I could 



MY VISIT TO THE LOAD-BEARER'S HOME 87 

over a parterre of leaves, moss, and the dehris of 
decayed timber. 

Penetrating still farther, I came upon a clearing, 
and then I canght a glimpse of a small frame house 
almost hidden by trees and shrubs. As I approached, 
three savage dogs, which I at first took to be wolves, 
chained up, began a fierce barking and howling. As 
I was about to get off my pony and ask if Elihu Gest 
lived here, a thin, pale-faced woman, her hair streaked 
with grey, opened the door. Then, wiping her mouth 
with her apron, she exclaimed : 

" Bless ye, sonny, ye ain't come with bad news, hev 
ye ? My ole man's been gone two full days en 
nights ! " 

It was Cornelia Gest, the Load-Bearer's wife. 

I told her who had sent me and what I had brought ; 
but it did not allay her anxiety when I recounted the 
incidents at the cabin of Socrates. 

" Git right down en come in, en tell me all about 
it," she said ; "I 'spect ye need a rest. It allers 
makes my head ache ridin' over the prairie in the 
hot sun," 

I got off the pony, and after tying up took the 
things into the kitchen. 

" Land ! How good yer ma is," she exclaimed, 
*' sendin' me all these things, in case o' needcessity. 
Elihu tole me 'bout her. Some folks don't need te 
hev wings te be angels. How did yer ma know I 
hedn't but one loaf o' bread left ? It do beat all how 
things work out ! I 'lowed te do some bakin' to-day^ 
but somehow I couldn't git te work. 'Pears like 
when Elihu's away en I don't know his whereabouts 
I cain't git nothin' done ! Law me ! if here ain't 



88 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

coffee ! Elihu ain't never ceased talkin' 'bout yer 
ma's coffee. What does she cl'ar it with ? " 

All this time I was wondering what she would do 
if her husband should fail to return before evening. 

" I'm right glad ye've come te cher a body ; the 
hours air longer when ye're mos' dead worryin.' 
"When he stayed away afore he 'lowed he wouldn't 
hev time te git back, en I warn't noways a-f eared he'd 
got hisself into trouble." 

There was something in her voice and look that 
aroused my sympathy. 

"I set up all las' night pray in' en readin' in the 
Good Book," she went on; " 'twarn't in mortal natur' 
te sleep." 

She seemed far away in thought. Her eyes were fixed 
on the floor, and I began to ask myself why everyone 
had so much trouble. As I only sat and listened she 
had become unconscious of my presence in the house ; 
but after a while she straightened up and resumed : 

" I reckon he tuck the runaways over te Uriah Busby's 
en from there he'll take 'em on te the nex' station." 

She mused for a time again, and then continued : 

" But it ain't easy ; the resks air turrible ; but then, 
ez Elihu sez, when the Lord en His hosts air with ye 
thar ain't no call te feel skeered. Elihu en Ike 
Snedeker en Ebenezer Carter en Tom Melendy, they 
don't none o' them know what it air te fail." 

After sitting for some time without speaking, all of 
a sudden she clasped her hands and rose from her 
seat, and stretching out her thin, bare arms, with 
trembling body and quivering lips, her voice went up 
in a long, loud wail : 

" Lord, help a pore fersaken woman ! Help me 



MY VISIT TO THE LOAD-BEARER'S HO^IE 89 

this day, fer my troubles air more'n I kin bear without 
Ye. Make it so I kin set here alone without repinin' ; 
send Elihu home, oh my Lord en my God, fer I cain't 
live without him." 

Her look appalled me. I saw grief manifest in words 
and gesture. ... I pictured to myself my mother 
pleading with the Eternal. I imagined what the Log- 
House would be with my father absent and his 
whereabouts unknown. 

How I wished to say something comforting to the 
lonely woman standing there, but I, who could never 
express to my mother what I thought and felt when 
she was in trouble, could not find words to comfort a 
stranger. I was overcome with a pity and sympathy 
which I was powerless to express in words, and I 
wondered what would become of the little home in the 
woods if the Load-Eearer never returned. It seemed 
as if I had kno^vIl this house and its occupants all my 
life, that we were in some way closely related. 

I proposed to ride over to the Busbys for any news 
I could gather there. It would take about an hour 
and a half. But we could arrive at no decision, and I 
was thinking of returning when we saw Elihu Gest 
slowly wending his way home through the most 
unfrequented part of the woods. He had followed 
the creek a good part of the way, and his wagon seemed 
full of farming implements and sacks of grain. 

Cornelia Gest stood at the door awaiting his arrival. 

" Fer the Land's sake ! " she ejaculated when he got 
within talking distance, " whar hev ye been ? " 

She paused a moment and then continued : 

" I don't know whether I'm looking right at ye er 
whether it's yer ghost a-drivin' them bosses. How 



90 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

d'ye low I've been settin' here two endurin' nights 
through without ye ? " 

" IN'ow, Cornely," he pleaded, " don't ye take on so. 
When I tell ye all about it ye'll be 'sprised en mighty 
glad I didn't come right home from the post-office. 
But I want ye te help me unload right here, fer it 
don't matter whar we set these things." 

We all went to work. The implements, or what I 
took to be such, were soon placed on the ground, but 
the sacks, instead of containing grain or potatoes, were 
filled with straw. We lifted off those nearest the dash- 
board, the Load-Bearer flung back a horse-blanket, and 
three faces, frightened, haggard, and woe-begone, 
looked out from the hay underneath. It was the 
quadroon mother and her two octoroon children. 

" White folks ! " gasped Cornelia, stunned by the 
unexpected. 

" I 'low the two air white enough, more's the pity," 
assented Elihu. 

"Goodness me! Elihu Gest!" protested Cornelia 
when the two stepped into the kitchen ; " we ain't got 
no place fer white folks. Thar's plenty vittles, but we 
ain't got no room, ye know we ain't ; en two on 'em 
look like they hedn't but one more breath te let out 
en they war holdin' on to it till they got here." 

" Wal, now," he said, " jes' give me a leetle time te 
let out my breath, fer me, too, I've been holdin' it in 
ever sence night afore last." 

But she persisted : 

" Whar on the face o' this y earth hev ye fished out 
sech a load ? Ye ain't never carried home nothin' te 
ekil it ! Whar hev ye been ? Do tell ! " 

" Why, ain't Bub here told ye ? " 



MY VISIT TO THE LOAD-BEARER'S HOME 91 

'' He told me 'bout throe runaways ye found over at 
Zack Cavcrly's, two on 'em mos' dead." 

" Jes' so, en I driv 'em te brother Busby's, whar I 
war oblceged te wait fer a good chance te git away, 
en now they air in the wagon thar.'' 

Cornelia sank into a seat. Amazement and indig- 
nation were depicted on every feature. Her jaws 
were firmly set and I could hear her teeth grate. 

" White slaves ! " she groaned. " I know ye ain't 
given te jokes, Elihu, but I cain't git it into my head 
how thar kin be slaves thet air ez white ez we be; 
somehow I couldn't never believe it ; but accordin' te 
your tellin' I've got te believe it, and now I've seen it 
with my own eyes." 

She did not seem like the woman who, a short time 
before, was complaining of her sorrows and tribulations. 
Indignation had given way to a desire to act, to help, 
to save the lives of the fugitives and send them on 
their way towards Canada. 

"I war calc'latin' te bring 'em in the house," 
remarked the Load-Bearer, as the two left the kitchen 
and walked over to the wagon, " but I reckon it air 
safer to take 'em te the barn. Thar '11 be a mite iv a 
chance thet if any one comes arter 'em they won't go 
te the barn te look." 

" Wal," agreed Cornelia, "thar ain't no objections 
te clean, new hay fer beds, en we kin take some things 
over from the house." 

" To-morrer I'll hev te step about en find a new 
hidin'-place, fer I heerd another band o' runaways 
air summairs south o' here, en they may be along 
afore we know it." 

"Don't ye go te doin' too much all te oncet," 



92 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

interposed his wife, " er ye'll be ailin' en things '11 
be a sight wuss." 

" To-morrer I'll take 'em te the cave by the creek. 
I 'lowed te hev it all fixed afore now, but things hev 
come about mighty sudden. Thet cave needs a heap 
o' fixin'. I ain't bed no sleep fer two nights en I 
skasely know what I'm a-doin'." 

For the first time I took notice of the Load-Bearer's 
tired face. His eyes expressed the hope and faith 
which inspired him, but a great weariness made his 
walk heavy and his movements slow. 

It was all Elihu and Cornelia Gest could do to get 
the eldest of the two women out of the wagon and 
into the barn. There was enough to keep all hands 
busy. I ran to and fro with blankets and pillows, 
while Mrs. Gest attended to the immediate wants of 
the fugitives. 

"When I had done all I could at the barn and 
returned to the house, I found Socrates standing close 
to the dogs. He was evidently in one of his keenest 
talking moods : 

" Ye kin kyount on what I'm tellin' ye," he was 
saying. *•' I hev fit varmints my hull life, en hev 
teached dogs, en I hev fed 'em so ez te make 'em win. 
Mebbe ye'll be in fer a fight afore long, en ye cain't 
keep 'em chained 'thout hevin' em fall off' some en git 
sorter limp in the fore-legs — reecollect a dog fights ez 
much with his legs ez he does with his teeth. If Lem 
Stephens's blood-hoimds come nosin' up this way ye'll 
be in fer a lively kick-up." 

" I've been wonderin' how ye keep yer dogs so 
sleek and spry," remarked the Load-Bearer. " What 
d'ye feed 'em on ? Any pertickler kyind o' meat ? " 



MY VISIT TO THE LOAD-BEARER'S HOME 93 

^' Give 'em mos' any thin' but liver, en let 'em run 
roun' consider'ble. But tie 'em up en starve 'em 
fer a day er so afore ye calc'late te use 'em fer any 
fightin'." 

Zack Caverly was eyeing with extraordinary inte- 
rest the three huge wolf-hounds, whose cold, agate 
eyes conjured up in my imagination images of the 
haunts of wolf and bear and the cruel romance of 
wold and wilderness. Compared with the Load- 
Bearer's dogs the hounds at the cabin of Socrates 
were the incarnation of docility and affection. 

The wolf-hounds gave us a look now and then of 
glacial indifference. There was no caressing to be 
indulged in here, no patting on the back, no words of 
encouragement expected or needed. I could not dis- 
tinguish any difference between them — they all looked 
the same height, colour, and size — but the Load- 
Bearer knew the characteristics of each. 

As I looked at the wolf-hounds, and then at the 
meek, compassionate face of Elihu Gest, I was struck 
with the incongruity of the scene : the dogs all 
ferocity, the man all meekness. But from that 
moment I saw the Load-Bearer in a new light. Under 
the humane countenance there dwelt the inflexible 
will, the inexorable determination to dare and to do. 
How different he was now, standing beside his wolf- 
hounds, from what he looked on his first visit to the 
Log-House 1 The benevolent look was still there, but 
the vague, dreamy expression was gone, and in its 
place appeared a realisation of present responsibilities. 
Plotting and planning had taken the place of dreams. 

''They don't need no coddlin'," observed Socrates, 
as he eyed them one after the other, slowly and 



94 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

critically. '' I ain't seed no dog-flesh ekil to 'em sence 
I war down in Tennessee, en if ye treat 'em ez I say 
ye'll hev good reason te be thankful, Elihu." 

" The Lord made 'em, brother Caverly, en they air 
here according te His will, en I'm right glad ye see 
thar p'ints air p'ints te reckon on." 

" I ain't seed thar ekil," he declared, giving the 
Load-Bearer a knowing look ; " they're ez full o' 
p'ints ez a porcupine air o' quills, en I reckon it ain't 
no ways discommodin' fer a man in your cirkinstances 
te hev sech pets lay in' roun', jes' pinin' away kase tha 
ain't no live meat fer te clean thar teeth on." 

'' 'Pears like they ain't got no feelin's, 'ceptin' fer 
huntin' en fightin'," remarked Elihu, contemplating 
the animals much as he would so many savage 
Indians. 

" They don't show no pertickler likin' fer any- 
body," returned Socrates; "but ye'll allow a good 
wagger makes a pore watcher, en some on 'em 
gits more'n enough te eat by not knowin' they hev 
tails." 

" If thar ain't Sister Busby ! " exclaimed the Load- 
Bearer, as Serena emerged from the woods on a big, 
slow, floundering sorrel. 

Elihu Gest seemed ill at ease when he saw her 
coming. She came like a rain-cloud, and her presence 
threw a cold douche over all. Serena Busby's tongue 
was all the more dangerous because her intentions 
were good and everybody liked her, but she was apt 
to tell the gravest secrets without being conscious of 
what she was saying. 

" Where's Cornely ? " she shouted, before the sorrel 
came to a stop at the kitchen door. 



MY VISIT TO THE LOAD-BEARER'S HOME 95 

" I've brought ye over some b'ars grease en cam- 
pliire," she went on as she caught sight of Mrs, Gest 
coming from the barn. " I forgot all about it this 
mornin' when Elihu left, everyone bein' so 
flustered." 

'' How good ye be ! " said Cornelia. " I war sayin' 
to Elihu jes' now thet we hedn't nothin' in the house 
to rub with, en the gal's ankle do need 'tendin' to. Ez 
fer gittin' a doctor, 'tain't no use thinkin' o' sech 
a thing. Thar ain't no one 'cept Doc. Reed in Jack- 
sonville we could trust to keep the secret, en he's too 
fur away." 

" This is what we all use fer sprains en bruises," 
replied Serena. "Ye know she ain't hed no bones 
broke. It all come about by havin' te jump over 
logs like rabbits with hounds after 'em that night 
when the slave-hunters were on thar tracks. It's 
horrible te see the poor thing suffer so ! But 
her mother is plumb used up ; she wouldn't taste a 
mite 'o vittles over to my house, en I tried her 
with everything. Sakes alive ! " she exclaimed, put- 
ting her hand into a deep pocket and taking out a 
small parcel, "I mos' forgot the tea; it's green 
tea, Cornely — some that Uriah got the last time he 
was down to Alton, en if that don't make her set 
up nothin' will. It'll give her backbone. But law ! 
ain't the children white ! It was the boy's curly 
hair made me think o' runaways, but I declare I'd 
take 'em fer white folks if they was dressed up real 
nice." 

" I didn't take no pertickler notice the night Elihu 
diskivered 'em," observed Socrates, "en I ain't seed 
'em sence — not te look squar' at 'em." 



96 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

Cornelia Gest had no more to say. She pretended 
a deep interest in the things Mrs. Busby had brought, 
but her mind was elsewhere. Her face looked what 
she felt. 

" Ain't ye goin' te git off en stop a spell, Sister 
Busby ? " inquired the Load-Bearer, with bland 
apathy. 

'' Yes, do," said his wife ; " shorely ye ain't goin' 
back 'thout seein' whar we've put 'em. We've done 
the best we could ; it's a sight cleaner'n some beds 
I've slept in afore now." 

" I promised Uriah te be right back without tyin' 
up, but I'll git off en make 'em a real nice cup o' this 
here tea, en we'll take it over to 'em." 

''They've hed coffee," observed Cornelia, with an 
effort to be polite and as a mild protest against green 
tea. 

The two women went into the kitchen, and I heard 
the Load-Bearer remark : 

" Sister Busby's got a sight o' boss sense, but she 
do need the bridle now and ag'in." 

" Sereny's jes' like a skittish yearling," commented 
Socrates; "but don't ye go te bridlin' her tongue er 
she'll take the bit 'twixt her teeth en a prairie fire 
won't head her off. Give her plenty tetherin'-groun' 
en plenty fac's te nibble on, but don't let her chaw too 
close te the stumps." 

"Ye kin lead a filly te the trough, Brother 
Caverly, but ye cain't make her drink more'n jes' 
so much. Some folks air allers thirstin' fer water 
from other folks's wells, but nothin' but a runnin' 
stream o' gossip will slake Sister Busby's thii'st fer 
more knowledge." 



MY VISIT TO THE LOAD-BEARER'S HOME 97 

" Thet's a fac', thet's a fac' ; but the wust is tae 
stream runs squar' through your diggin's." 

" Ez things are goin' now, Sereny knows 'nough te 
want te know a heap more. I'm plumb with ye when 
ye tell me not te let her nibble till she comes to the 
cobble-stones." 

The tea was soon made, for Mrs. Gest had kept the 
fire going and the water hot. 

No sooner had she and Mrs. Busby disappeared into 
the barn than Alek Jordan came galloping up by the 
shortest cut from the main road. 

" Harm told me te give ye this," he said to the 
Load-Bearer, handing him a letter ; *' it's from Isaac 
Snedeker; he give it te marm te send." 

Elihu opened and read, while Zack Caverly stood 
and waited for the news. 

The Load-Bearer heaved a sigh : 
" Brother Snedeker sez he's a-comin' here to-morrer 
night with eight runaways." 

" Whoop-ee ! " exclaimed Socrates. 
Then a thought struck him. 

" Looky here, Alek," he said, " you jes' light out 
ez quick ez ever ye kin ; thar's some un at the barn 
thet musn't know ye've been here. Don't ye wait a 
minnit ; take the trail through the woods by the creek 
ez fur ez ye kin er mebbe the runaways '11 git 
ketched." 

The Load-Bearer had his eyes fixed on the bam, 
expecting every moment to see Mrs. Busby emerge 
and then ride part of the way home with Alek Jordan, 
when more than one secret would be revealed con- 
cerning the intentions of Isaac Snedeker. 

Alek, whose horse was young and in fine condition, 
y.s. H 



98 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

was off at a bound, the animal clearing like a buck 
every obstacle in his path. 

Hardly had he got out of sight when Serena Busby 
made her appearance, followed by Cornelia Gest, 
who, weary and distracted, let the visitor do all the 
talking. 



CHAPTER IX 

A NIGHT OF MYSTERY 

On certain evenings my father would sit before the 
big, open fireplace and watch with unalloyed satisfac- 
tion the burning logs. He would see pictures in the 
blazing wood, and he had a science of his own in the 
mingling of different logs. 

" How well that dried hickory burns with the damp 
walnut ! " he would say, taking the tongs and shifting 
the pieces, now a little more to the front, now a little 
farther back. 

He taught me to see castles, people, and faces in 
the flames and embers, and I knew what colours to 
expect from the different woods. He kept some that 
were full of sap, that would burn slowly ; others were 
split up to dry. While sitting before the fire on a 
clear, bracing night my father was wont to forget 
every care and abandon himself to the pure pleasures 
of the hearth. He would dream of the past, of friends 
in the old country, and more than once he would 
remark to me, taking the tongs and pointing : 
"There's a face that reminds me of poor So-and-so." 
He loved to revisit the old familiar scenes while the 
fire gave them momentary life and set them before 
him in frames of gold and flaming opal. Then he 
would tell me stories of the wild animals of the old 
homestead, of the tracks of the marten in the snow, and 
how he discovered its hiding-place ; of a memorable 

H 2 



100 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

fox hunt when one of his friends held the fox up 
by the tail and another friend cried out from a dis- 
tance : " Don't hurt the fox ! don't hurt the fox ! " 
and of his sojourn in Paris during the reign of Louis 
Philippe. 

At such times my mother added a spirit of cheerful- 
ness by some joyful exclamation, such as : " There's 
a letter in the candle ! " as if the simple expression in 
itself would assist the arrival of good news from afar ; 
and when I looked I saw a large flaming blot, on the 
side of the wick, pointing toward us. 

I cannot remember whether the letters arrived, as 
the candle so often announced ; but how vividly I 
recollect the nights when I lay awake in the next 
room and heard my parents discuss the uncertainty of 
the future, the imminent need of funds to carry on 
the work of the farm, and the possibility of failure 
and ruin ! Such conversations occurred after the 
other members of the family had gone to bed, but I 
heard everything, and night after night I listened to 
these talks, and racked my brain wondering how it 
would all end. My distress was even greater than 
that of my mother, for she knew what I did not, and 
she could still hope. 

After such talks the quivering song of the cricket 
dotted the stillness with an accent of deeper melan- 
choly, while the heavy pendulum slowly measured 
out the minutes between midnight and the dismal 
twilight of dawn. 

We were all sitting quietly together the evening 
after my visit to the Load-Bearer's home, my mother 
with the Bible in her lap — the only book she ever 
read while in the Log-House — my father reading a 



A NIGHT OF MYSTERY 101 

newspaper containing an account of a recent speecli by 
Abraham Lincoln. My mother's face looked paler 
and more pensive than usual, for, some days previous 
to this, my father had had a misunderstanding with 
one of the settlers. The only weapon in the house 
was a double-barrelled gun, and even this stood 
unloaded against the wall in a comer of the sitting- 
room. No dog was kept on the place, for the reason 
that a dog was regarded as one of the things most 
likely to cause trouble with the neighbours. 

The wind was blowing across the prairie from the 
east. My mother seemed apprehensive, and I must 
have caught some of the thoughts which filled her 
mind with gloomy presentiments. During a lull of 
the wind a sound reached us from the prairie. It 
might have been a shout or a call. How vividly it 
all comes before me now ! She looked inquiringly at 
my father, who was absorbed in his newspaper and 
heard nothing. I needed no words to tell me what 
she was thinking ; her face assumed a grave and 
anxious look. I was hoping the sound might be 
nothing more than the noise of belated travellers 
passing on horseback when we heard it again, like 
a confused, mumbling menace — this time a little 
nearer, still disguised in the muffled wind. She 
walked into the next room, greatly agitated, but 
instantly returned and began to read in the Prayer- 
book. 

My father had just put aside his newspaper when 
a low, hollow murmur came from the prairie. 

"What can it be?" asked my mother in a voice 
scarcely audible. Without answering, he went into 
the next room for the ammunition, took the gun from 



102 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

the corner and began to load with buckshot. It 
seemed to me he had never looked so tall, so grim, so 
determined as when he rammed the wadding down 
with the ramrod. Then he went to the front door 
and listened. My mother sat with closed eyes like 
one in a trance, until it seemed to me as if by some 
unaccountable hocus-pocus we had been thrust into a 
world where pantomime and mystery had taken the 
place of speech, and we were waiting for some sudden 
and terrible stroke of destiny. What was going to 
happen ? Was it the end of all things at the Log- 
House ? 

My father decided not to go out by the front way, 
and after the light was removed he opened the kitchen 
door and stood outside in the dark. 

" The moon is just rising," said my mother in a 
half-whisper, looking through the window of the 
front room. Then I looked, and as the clouds drifted 
by I saw the moon in the shape of a gleaming scythe, 
A sudden chill of autumn had come to the house. 
She hurried out to beg my father to come in, but he 
was creeping from corner to corner and from tree to 
tree, with the gun held before him, cocked and ready 
for that deadly aim for which he was so well known. 

After going as far as the smoke-house and waiting 
there some time, he returned ; he thought the sounds 
must have been due to some prowling animal. He 
was about to give up further search when the moaning 
was again heard, out a little beyond the trees, and 
then, as my mother stood trembling at the door, a 
voice shouted : 

" Don' shoot, massa ; don' shoot ! fer de Lawd's sake 
don' ye shoot I " 



A NIGHT OF MYSTERl 103 

My father went straight towards the voice. 

" We done lost, massa," someone shouted as soon as 
he reached the open ; " we is lookin' fer massa Gest's 
place." 

" Come in, come in." 

My father came back into the kitchen with two 
negro fugitives. 

" Where have you been ? " 

" Mass' Snedeker done drap us ober dere," said one 
of the negroes, pointing west. 

" He was running you off ? " 

" YeSj massa." 

" And finding he was chased, let you down, and so 
you got lost?" 

*' Yes, massa." 

Just then a loud knocking at the front door came 
with terrible suddenness, for during the talk and 
confusion no one had heard any noise in the road. 

My father took his gun, and standing at one side 
of the door asked who was there. 

"Isaac Snedeker," answered a familiar voice. 

Open went the door and in rushed Ike Snedeker, 
one of the most intrepid souls that ever risked death 
for the sake of conscience. 

A man stood before us who had never known fear. 
One glance at this face would be enough to make an 
enemy stop and think twice before coming to close 
quarters with such a being. He was courage incar- 
nate, with the shaggy head of a lion, the sharp, 
invincible eye of an eagle, the frame of an athlete, 
the earnestness of a convinced reformer. His hair 
stood out thick and bushy, and his bearded face, with 
the upper lip clean-shaven, gave to the whole 



104 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

countenance a massive, formidable look that inspired 
every fugitive with confidence and struck fear into 
the hearts of his secret foes. 

"I've lost two runaways," he said, as he walked 
through to the kitchen ; " had to let them out of the 
wagon over there near the maple grove — we were 
foUowed." 

" I think they are here," said my father, " and I 
came near shooting one of them by mistake." 

'' I directed them to come this way as near as I 
could, hoping they would strike through the praiiie 
at this place." 

My mother was now bringing the fugitives some- 
thing to eat when Isaac Snedeker said peremptorily : 

'' Come along, it's now or never. We've got to get 
to Brother Gest's with that load before midnight. 
You see, I've had to gather 'em up here and there in 
different places, and I have in the wagon out there 
two lots — one sent over by Ebenezer Carter and the 
other by Brother Wolcott. If we get caught it'll 
be the first time ; but they'd get a haul that would 
amount to something — I've got fourteen altogether." 

The two fugitives left without having time to drink 
a cup of coffee, and we all went to the road to see them 
off. The wagon was full of frightened, trembling 
runaways : negroes, mulattoes, octoroons. Not a 
moment was lost. Isaac Snedeker had only to speak 
to his horses — a fine, powerful team — to send them 
going at a great speed down the road towards the 
appointed meeting-place at Elihu Gest's. 

We went back into the house, where my mother 
sank exhausted into a rocking-chair. 

But sbe had still another ordeal to go through. 



A NIGHT OP MYSTERY 105 

Prayers had been said, and we were all about to retire 
for the night, when the noise of galloping horses and 
men talking could be heard in the road. One moment 
of suspense followed another. Footsteps were heard 
near the kitchen door, then there came a light and 
somewhat timid rapping as if the persons outside were 
not certain about this being the right place. My father 
opened, this time without asking who was there. Two 
disreputable-looking men stood before him, one of 
them scowling at us through the door like some 
ferocious animal. They carried pistols and dirks. 
Their eyes were shaded by slouched hats that partly 
concealed the upper part of their faces, so that, for all 
we knew, they might have been neighbours living at 
no great distance from the Log-House. 

''Hev ye seen any runaways hangin' round 
hyar ? " asked the elder man, looking up from 
under his hat, and with an expression that told of a 
fearful admixture of malicious cunning and moral 
cowardice. 

" I have," answered my father. " Who delegated you 
to look for them ? " 

The fellow hesitated. 

Then he stammered : 

" Be you a fire-eatin' Abolitionist ? " 

" I have voted for Abraham Lincoln once, if that is 
what you mean by being an Abolitionist." 

" Ye ain't been long in this country," observed the 
younger man. 

" Long enough to become an American citizen, and 
vote." 

This surprised them. They looked confused, but 
they braced themselves for a final effort. 



106 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

" We're arter them runaways, 'en we don't calc'late 
te leave hyar without takin' 'em along." 

"They went from here some time ago, so you'll 
have to look elsewhere if you want to find them." 

" Let's go over to the barn," said the elder of the 
two. 

They started for the barn, but stopped just beyond 
the big locust tree, and I heard the words : 

" Say, Jake, I don't like the look o' that old 
Britisher." 

" ISTo more do I." 

" He'U shoot the fust thing we know. He's got 
sunthin' mighty juberous in thet eye o' his'n." 

Not another word was said. They wheeled about, 
made for the road, mounted their horses, and were off. 

They had been cowed and disarmed by my father's 
coohiess, his independence, by his towering height, 
and a scorn that was withering to the two slave-hunting 
villains. 



CHAPTER X 

SOWING AND REAPING 

The wide strip of prairie to the west of the Log- 
House was now ready for planting, but not without 
immense labour. A huge plough which descended into 
the primitive soil was drawn by four or five pairs of 
stout oxen, di'iven and directed by a man with a whip 
as long as the team itself. My father held the plough, 
and frequently stood on it in order to drive it deep 
enough to cut through the roots that were often 
formidable in their thickness. 

Oh, the delightful souvenirs of that ploughing and 
planting ! The odour of the fresh, rich soil, never 
broken till now, the turning up of snakes, insects, and 
queer stones, with here and there the rough flint- 
head of an Indian arrow, the flocks of red-winged black- 
birds settling down to feast in the wavy sods, the 
excitement which had in it no reaction — how is it 
possible that such things pass as in dreams ? 

The whole day I followed the oxen, never growing 
weary of the wonders of Nature, and when this rough 
piece of land had been ploughed, harrowed, and duly 
prepared for the first crop of Indian corn (maize), then 
came, what was to me, the climax of the whole pro- 
ceedings, the actual sowing of the seed. It was like 
some rare holiday, a festival, a celebration. All Nature 
seemed to partake of the joy ; a new world of marvels 
seemed to be on the eve of consummation. The weather 



108 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

was perfect, and as we three — my father, one of my 
sisters, and myself — went forth with a sack of seed, 
we dropped the large golden grains into the proper 
places all along through the soft, dark loam, closing up 
each hole, keeping up a ceaseless clatter, mainly, I 
think, about the pure delights of the work we were 
doing. 

Perhaps never since have I felt the same kind of 
thrill. There are days that shine out like great white 
jewels in the crown of years. 

After the planting there was little to be done except 
watching and waiting. We watched the sprouting of 
the corn till it grew through the first period. Its 
second period was one of flowing, silky tassels, clear 
and pure, with a silvery sheen, the whole field decked 
in opulent hangings that waved in the wind and 
sparkled in the sun, the stalks rising in places to a 
height of ten feet or more. The third period came 
about August, when the ripening began. It was 
slow, the stalks turning to a light, faded gold, the big 
ears hanging in heavy clusters and in countless num- 
bers, one rivalling another in length and size. And 
the field now afforded another pleasure — that of 
getting lost in its mysterious depths. By day it was 
a happy feeding-ground for birds, and by night a 
hiding-place for wild animals. 

Then came two later stages — the cutting and stack- 
ing. The cutting was rough work. It was done by 
hired hands ; and when the corn was stacked the 
field assumed another air, and the face of Nature there- 
abouts was changed beyond recognition. The stacks 
resembled innumerable huts or wigwams, and this 
was not without a charm of its own, for it made the 



SOWING AND REAPING 109 

surroundings less lonoly-looking ; but when the ears 
of corn were taken from the stalks and the field 
stripped bare the view was one of vacant desolation, 
without a symbol of saving grace — naked, barren of 
romance or joy, a thing plucked and polluted by the 
ruthless hand of necessity. 

Then came one of the last stages in the progress of 
the corn towards the bread-pan of the household. The 
big, stout ears had to be stripped of the thick outer 
envelope, and this was called a " corn-husking." It 
was done by all hands, great and small ; the neigh- 
bours were invited, the company assembling in the 
evening, mostly young people ; a husking-glove was 
worn on one hand, and, with a small, knife-shaped 
implement, the shuck was stripped off and the beautiful 
gold-red grain was laid bare. This was a time of 
merry-making, love-making, and gaiety. In the 
earlier days it was a time of dancing and heavy drink- 
ing, but here at the Log-House the evening passed in 
sober enjoyment, as became the rigid tenets of the 
master and mistress, almost Calvinistic in their 
religious views; and so nothing stronger than coffee 
was drunk at the merry supper which followed. 

Six months had passed since the prairie soil was 
broken for the corn, and now we should see it no 
more till it came into the house in the form of golden 
meal, all ready to be prepared for the bread-pan, 
baked in the oven, and set steaming hot on the table 
for breakfast or supper, about an inch and a half 
thick, as yellow as rich gold, the top baked to a brown 
crust, the whole cut into good sized squares in the 
pan. We cut the pieces through the middle and 
spread them with fresh home-made butter ; and this, 



110 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

with home-cured bacon, and eggs laid in the sweet- 
smelling hay of the old barn, by hens fattened on 
corn, surpassed any dish I have ever eaten, in the 
palaces of kings, in the mansions of. millionaires, or 
any of the great restaurants of Paris or London. 
How many times, when dining with the great ones of 
the world, undeceived by the illusions of sight, taste, 
and smell, my mind has wandered back to the delicious 
breakfasts and suppers at the Log-House, certain that 
nothing could rival hot corn-bread properly made. 

In many of the principal States corn is the staff of 
life. It is given to pigs, cattle, turkeys, and chickens. 
It fed the negroes as slaves, the whites when flour was 
a thing unattainable, gave Abraham Lincoln his robust 
frame, developed the physical frame of most of the 
famous men of the South and West of early days, and 
made victory over malaria and adverse conditions pos- 
sible. Neurasthenia was unheard of till the people 
began to eat bread made from wheat. The eating of 
hot white biscuits (muffins) for breakfast and supper 
developed America's national disease — dyspepsia. 

Up to the time of the great Civil War, the general 
type of the South and West was characterised by height, 
muscular litheness, immense powers of resistance, 
sound digestion. The fashions in eating kept pace 
with fashions in dress. Previous to 1820 the dress 
was mainly of buck-skin, cap of fur, such as the 
raccoon, and moccasins on the feet. Then came the 
period of jean and linsey-woolsey, dyed blue or 
copperas-coloured ; then what I may call the calico 
period, when young women were considered to be 
beautifully dressed in plain dotted or striped coloured 
calico patterns, with sun-bonnets to match. This 



SOWING AND REAPING 111 

was followed by a step nearer the city fashions, and 
ginghams and delaines were introduced here and 
there ; but the silk and lace period did not dawn on 
the smaller towns of the West till the war suddenly 
scattered bank-notes broadcast through the land and 
brought in its train tumult, movement, money, and 
the latest fashions. 

In the autumn there were other gatherings, such 
as "apple parings," and " quiltings," and the inevit- 
able country fair which everyone attended. The 
autumn was the most sociable time of the whole year, 
and for several weeks there would be plenty to do and 
plenty to talk about. The quilting brought together 
the most instructive and entertaining visitors. It was 
a woman's affaii-, but the husbands usually came for 
supper at six, or later, in the evening, and so there 
was talk on every subject of any local interest, from 
politics to mince pies. 

After one or two cups of tea Mrs. Busby would 
talk by the hour, and a word, a hint would call forth 
the description of an event or a new version of some 
disputed story. 

" Law me ! How this section hez settled up sence 
we've been here ! When we fust come there warn't 
no stores within a ten mile ride. It wus rough, and 
in some places a mite dangerous, especially over in 
what they called the ' chivaree ' district. There was 
a band that chivareed every couple that got merried 
fer miles around ; en speakin' o' chivarees reminds 
me o' the time when ole man Snyder merried a 
yaller-haired gal from down Jersey ville way. They 
hedn't more'n got home when 'long come the wust 
crowd ye could pick up in the hull country, headed 



112 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

by Bub Hawkins en Jack Haywood. They brought 
ole tin pans, kittles, whistles, cow-bells, horns en 
everything they could make a howlin' noise with, en 
set up a kinder war-dance round the cabin. Ole man 
Snyder was fer shootin', bein' tetchy en not given to 
lettin' words melt in his mouth, but his bride got 
riled en took a raw hide en made fer the door, en out 
she went into the crowd. 

" ' Who's the ringleader here '? ' she says. ' Who's 
the ringleader 1 I want to know ; en if ye don't 
tell me I'll cow-hide ye all, en won't be long 
about it.' 

" With that Bub Hawkins started snickerin' en 
steppin' roun' like a turkey on a hot gridiron, half 
ashamed like en not knowin' jes' what te do or te 
say, en Sal Snyder standin' there with her yaller 
hair all hangin' loose en her eyes a snappin' like a 
wild cat. 

"'Ain't ye goin' to tell me?' she shouted; but 
there warn't a man there that could stand en look 
right in them eyes, 

" ' Looky here, Bub Hawkins,' she says, ' you've 
come te chivaree me en my ole man, but I'm a-goin' 
te give ye somethin' te make ye shiver en keep it up 
all night,' en with that she lit in en let him have 
it, head en face, neck en body, en when he broke en 
ran she wus after him, lettin' him have it from 
behind ; en ye better b'lieve she hed sinews in her 
arms like the strong man in th' Good Book ; en every 
time Bub Hawkins jumped a log she brought down 
her cow-hide from behind with a reg'lar war-whoop that 
made the woods ring. When she had chased the ring- 
leader she come back te tackle the others, but they 



SOWING AND REAPING 113 

had all vamosed. They do claim that Sal Snyder 
plumb broke up that gang. 

" They did need religion," she went on, '' en it was 
time Pete Cartwright come along en got Jack Hay- 
wood side-tracked from his good-fer-nothin' ways. 
Ye see it wus like this : Jack Haywood's wife died 
en left him with six young uns, en he lowed his home 
wns like a hive without a queen bee. Anyhow, that's 
what he told widder Brown when he merried her. 
Things went long pnrty smooth fer some time, en it 
looked like he wus well fixed en settled ; but one day 
she up en said : — 

" * Looky here. Jack Haywood, I low yer hive's all 
right, en it sets close te a clover patch, but whar's the 
honey ? I ain't never see ye bring home nothin' but 
what sticks te yer feet, en thar ain't no mistake 'bout 
it, thar's plenty comb, fer it's comb, comb all day 
long try in' te get the hay -seeds out o' yer six sassy 
tow-heads. Now I tell ye what it is,' she says, 
turnin' from her dough en p'intin' the roUin'-pin 
straight at him, ' you've got the hive en you've got a 
bee te boss it, but what hez she got '{ Why, she's got 
six young drones, not includin' two yaller dogs en 
yerself, en if I had wings, ez I hed orter hev, I'd 
take a bee-line fer a hive that's got some vittles in it.' 

'' When Uriah asked him how he wus gettin' on 
with his queen bee, he said : 

" ' She's workin' the comb all right, but she stings 
with her tongue wus'n any hornet I ever bumped 

agin.' 

''His fust wife druv him te drinkin' en this one 
druv him te religion. He got converted, but fust off 
she wus dead set agin preachers, en scuffled up agin 

V.8. I 



114 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

preachin' en prayin' in dead earnest till Haywood was 
most druv crazy. When Pete Cartwright come long 
one day he says she stormed en raved en used cuss 
words, en when he said he wus goin' te pray right in 
the cabin she shook her fist in his face en 'lowed she 
wns one half alligator en t'other half snappin' turtle, 
en dared him te put her out, ez he said he would if 
she didn't behave ; she said it 'ud take a better man 
than he wus te do it. 

" While he wus prayin' she got awful mad. She 
called him all the names she could think of, en threw 
the cat at his head, en then Pete Cartwright up en 
took hold of her arm en swung her clean te the door, 
en out she went. He slammed the door in her face, en 
of all the rippin' en roarin' ye ever heerd that wus the 
wust. 

"He barred the door agin her and went right on 
with his prayin' ; but land ! with a she-devil scratchin' 
te get in a man ud hev te be a reg'lar angel with 
wings not te be riled en flustered in his pleadin's ; so 
he jes' turned the table on her, stopped prayin' en 
begin to sing ez loud ez ever he could beller — en ye 
better b'lieve he could shout when he got fixed fer it, 
en the louder she screamed en roared outside, the 
louder he sung inside, en they kept it up till she 
begin te pant fer breath. He kept right on till she 
knocked on the door en hollered out : 

" ' Mr. Cartwright, do please let me in ! ' 

" ' Well,' he said, 'I'll let ye come in if ye' 11 
promise te behave yerself.' 

She said she would ; so he opened the door en led 
her te a seat near the fire-place, en he says he never 
see a woman so pale en tremblin'. 



SOWING AND REAPING 115 

*' ' I've been a big fool,' she says. 

" ' I 'lowye hev,'says Pete Cartwright, ' en ye'llhev 
te repent fer all yer sins or ye'll go te perdition.' 

" She hung her head en plumb give up fer shame. 
The poor little children were all huddled under the bed, 
en he called 'em out en told 'cm their mother wouldn't 
hurt 'em now, en with that he started prayin' ag'in 
with Haywood, en in six months she was converted 
en the folks in that cabin made real happy." 

In the evenintr the riding of the young ladies for 
prizes at the county fair was discussed. All had 
something to say concerning this momentous 
incident. 

" I've been attendin' kyounty fairs 'most all my 
life," said one, " en it did take the rag oflf the bush te 
see the way the cuttin's up o' thet ole chestnut sp'iled 
the ridiu' o' them po' gals." 

"What I want te know is who put Almedy Sin- 
clair te ride on sech a critter," said another. 

"Well," said Mrs. Busby, "ye don't reckon 
Almedy Sinclair's green enough te pick out sech a 
rib-breaker te ride on all by herself, do ye ? — en she 
one of the best j edges o' hoss-flesh in this hull district. 
Why, that gal thinks nothin' o' ridin' bare-back en 
breakin' the wust mustang ye kin bring her. I've see 
her do it. She sets a-hossback ez easy ez ye're settin' 
in that rockin'-cheer. No, sir-ree, ye better look fer 
someone with more green in their eye before ye ask 
me te b'lieve she went roamin' roun' the country jes' 
te choose sech a rip-tearin' bucker fer a saddle-hoss, 
en she settin' her cap fer fust prize ! Almedy Sin- 
clair ain't that kind. Ye see," she continued, warming 
to the subject, " the man that owned that chestnut fust 

I 2 



116 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

off went te the Mexican war en rid him in the battle 
o' Bueny Visty, en there's where a bullet nipped the 
top off one o' his marrer-bones, a leetle behind the 
saddle, en that wus the beginnin' o' the kickin' en the 
buckin' ; but some say after the wowned got healed 
he kept the buckin' up jest fer ole time's sake. When 
his owner come back from the war he sold him fer a 
good draw-hoss, b'lievin' him te be right safe te pull 
a wagon, en when the man that bought him was 
fordin' a creek in flood-time the hoss kicked every- 
thing te pieces right in the middle o' the creek. His 
next owner was a Baptist preacher who took te dram 
drinkin' te drown his sorrer at bein' so tuk in by a 
sleek, fat hoss en a professin' Christian. The fac' is, 
the wowned in his back got healed quick enough, en 
it never showed no signs on th' outside, but the bone 
wus allers tender, en when the saddle wus put a leetle 
too fur back, er when it happened te be a leetle too 
long, there was sure to be trouble ; en that double- 
dealin' rascal that owns him now knows it, en he fixed te 
hev Almedy lose en his own gal win, fer he knew if 
Almedy hed a good hoss she'd surely carry off the 
prize. Ye see, when a body's used te ridin' bosses 
that chaw the bit en prance te one side en rear on 
their hind legs, it looks like hoss en gal's both 
cunnin' 'nough te show off their good p'ints all te 
oncet, en Almedy Sinclair kinder looked fer sum'thin' 
like that in the critter she was ridin'. She expected 
te be h'isted a couple o' times, fer a man hollered out 
to her, ' Sit ez tight ez ye kin ! ' en she knowed what 
that meant; but it didn't mean what she thought. 
Th' ole chestnut warn't no ways stiff in the hind legs 
when he started ; but that ain't allers a good sign 



SOWING AND REAPING 117 

nuther. It allers takes time te git right down te the 
weak spot of any beast, but in this here case it looked 
like the time wus fore- ordained, ez the preachers say, 
right down te the minnit, fer jest ez th' ole hoss come 
along in front o' the j edges stand the saddle worked 
back till it come agin the tender marrer-bone, en he 
stopped like he'd been struck with a bullet. Right 
then I hear a man say, ' Watch out ! ' en skasely hed 
he spoke when the critter up en give his tail en hind 
legs sech a twist that it looked like Almedy 'd surely 
land on the critter's neck. It warn't expected ; the 
hoss riz at the wrong end. There he stood, stock still, 
leavin' Almedy Sinclair settin' like a sack o' seed 
pertaters while t'other gal rid by on her prancin' roan 
ez big ez life en twicet ez sassy. Pore Almedy sot till 
her hoss riz en shuk his heels ag'in, en ye kin b'lieve 
she made a break from that saddle ez mad ez ever ye 
see a gal in all yer born days." 



CHAPTER XI 

THE FLIGHT 

The Indian summer had come, the season of seasons, 
with its golden memories, its diaphanous skies, its 
dream-like afternoons, its gossamer veils spread over 
the shimmering horizon, transforming by its own 
transcendent magic the whole earth and atmosphere. 

Smoke rose from wooded places in long, thin 
columns of hazy blue, and once in a while a whiff of 
burning grass and leaves filled the magnetic air with 
fragrant odour. The settlers ceased to fret and 
worry ; there was neither reaping nor repining. 

The sun was setting when I arrived at the Load- 
Eearer's home, two days after Isaac Snedeker's visit 
to the Log-House. I had brought more provisions for 
the fugitives. 

''Dear me I but yer ma is good te send all these 
vittles fer the runaways," exclaimed Mrs. Gest as I 
emptied my saddle-bags on the kitchen table. 

As I was going to stay there till morning we sat 
about here and there waiting for the hours to pass 
and the coming of Isaac Snedeker, who was to take 
the fugitives to the next station that night. We 
expected his arrival some time between ten and eleven 
o'clock. 

How calm and peaceful was the evening ! 

Now and then a gentle current of wind stirred the 
branches, and the leaves fell in flaky showers like 



THE FLIGHT 119 

snow on ground already strewn with the dead foliage 
of autumn. 

Far away, the tinkling of bells told of cattle peace- 
fully grazing, and the prairie, immense and tranquil 
as a golden sea, inspii-ed a feeling as of ages and ages 
of repose. 

In the west a bank of filmy clouds edged with 
silver floated against a sky of glassy green which 
gradually melted into serried ranks of flaming amber, 
and the sere, crisp leaves of the beech were interlaced 
with the red and purple of oak and maple, while the 
trees by the creek glistened and sparkled in the genial 
rays of the setting sun. 

And there was something in the early hours of the 
evening that throbbed in ceaseless unison with the 
constellations overhead. After darkness closed in all 
the witchery of Nature seemed at work in earth and 
sky. Above the tree-tops a host of twinkling stars 
looked down on the anxious watchers and refugees. 
Presently a thin mist descended about us through 
which the starry vault and dark masses of trees could 
be discerned, with tracings of dim, fantastic forms in 
the scattered underbush. 

The slanting rays of the rising moon came reaching 
in long gleams across the roof of the little frame 
house, while its weird shafts shot through the narrow 
interspaces of wood and thicket, and gleamed in small 
round patches on the green moss underneath. The 
scarlet vines all around on the boughs were tipped 
with a soft, glistening pallor that fell as from some 
ghostly lantern from a distant world, while just above 
the horizon, poised like an aerial plume in the deep 
indigo blue, the vanishing comet waned amidst a 



120 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

wilderness of glittering lights under a shimmering 
crown of stars. 

During a moment of profound quiet, when it seemed 
as if all Nature had sunk to rest, a wolf beyond the 
creek began a series of long-drawn-out howls. The 
woods began to vibrate with low, clamorous calls. 
The howling drew nearer; one of the wolf-hounds 
answered back in pitiful cries, then another and 
another. Everywhere call answered call. A rushing 
sound filled the space above us where vast flocks of 
wildfowl cut the air with the swish and rustle of a 
thousand wings. The honking came and went as 
flock after flock passed over us in whizzing waves. 
The whole world was stirring. Earth sent up a 
chorus of lamentations that mingled with the voices 
above. The fugitives huddled together in the cave in 
expectation of some unimagined calamity, and at last, 
unable to withstand the feeling of terror, they began 
to creep up towards the house. 

The Load-Bearer, who had gone into the kitchen, 
fell on his knees, with the Bible open before him on 
the chair, while his wife sat just inside, with her 
hands tightly clasped, peering intently through the 
open door across the clear patches of moonlight. 
Soon he rose and hurriedly walked out. 
" Whar be ye goin' ? " stammered his wife, noticing 
his dazed look. 

He walked as one in a dream, while Cornelia 
followed. 

" Elihu, whar be ye goin' ? " 

There was a clinking of the chains at the kennels, 
and a cry from the wolf-hounds told us they were 
free. They sped round and round the house in a 



THE FLIGHT 121 

whirl of excitement, then into the woods and back 
again to the house, giving the last shudder to the 
climax of confusion before they made off towards the 
main road leading south-west. 

Then, as by a wave of some invisible wand, the 
tumult ceased. The woods and the house lay plunged 
in an all-pervading stillness. The country round 
about seemed suddenly dipped in a gulf of silence. 

The Load-Bearer came back to the kitchen and 
again fell on his knees. After some moments he 
began to read aloud : 

" ' Alas, for that day is great, so that none is like 
it ; it is even the time of Jacob's trouble ; but he 
shaU be saved out of it.' " 

" Whar be they ? " mused Cornelia, not listening 
to her husband. " It's gettin' late . . . Brother 
Snedeker said he'd be here at ten o'clock." 

Her hair had fallen down on one side of her face ; 
she looked sad and very troubled. She was over- 
burdened with the loads of others, with loads which 
she had not sought, which life and death had heaped 
together in one short, swift period of time, and she 
felt crushed under their weight. But Elihu Gest, 
absorbed in prayer, heard nothing, saw nothing, 
thought of nothing but the Eternal. 

Now he read aloud from Isaiah : 

" ' Awake, awake, Jerusalem, which hast drunk 
of the hand of the Lord the cup of His fuiy ; thou 
hast drunken the dregs of the cup of trembling and 
wrung them out." 

He remained silent for a moment, and when he 
continued it was with a voice full of prophetic faith : 

" ' Thus saith the Lord thy God that pleadeth the 



122 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

cause of His people, behold I have taken out of thine 
hand the cup of trembling, even the dregs of the cup 
of My fury ; thou shalt no more drink it again.' " 

The last words had sunk deep into Cornelia's soul. 
She seemed to have caught all the mystical power of 
those seven magical words : '' Thou shalt no more 
drink it again." Her eyes grew brighter, her face was 
lit by a placid smile, all the old religious faith came 
rushing back. 

A faint breeze brought with it an aroma of dried 
leaves and withering grasses. As the moon rose higher 
in the heavens the night grew brighter. ITot far from 
the door a group of fugitives stood gazing intently at 
Cornelia Gest, the pallid faces of the octoroons forming 
a sort of spectral frame for the black faces in the 
centre. Here and there, around the house, murmurs 
and half- suppressed groans and supplications arose, for 
the runaways had brought to the Load-Bearer's home 
a new world, with new and unheard-of influences. 
There were fugitives from nearly every slave State 
bordering the Mississippi; they brought with them 
their own peculiar beliefs, their own interpretations of 
certain signs and sounds of the night. All had been 
awed by the appearance of the comet, but now a 
terrible fear possessed them. For each one every sound 
came as a special menace, every object had a special 
symbol. 

The Load-Bearer rose from his knees, and as he 
stepped to the door one of the wolf-hounds, covered 
with blood-stains, was there to greet him. The others 
were not far off, and all had evidently done their work. 

"Somethin' hez happened down on the road," said 
Cornelia. 



THE FLIGHT 123 

" They hev nipped some evil in the bud," returned 
Elihu. 

But Cornelia peered without ceasing in one direction, 
anxiously awaiting the arrival of Isaac Snedeker. 

" Thar's someone a-comin' now," remarked the 
Load-Bearer. 

But we still waited, gazing into the distance. The 
last hour had seemed endless. We walked down 
towards the creek to pass away the time, then returned 
and stood in the moonlight. Elihu Gest was trying to 
make out what the object was that we now saw 
approaching from the east. It came looming up in the 
thin mist that hung over the road, growing bigger as 
it drew nearer ; and the fugitives, seeing it approach, 
sought refuge in the darkness behind the house, some 
running as far as the creek. 

Not one was visible ; not a murmur was to be heard. 
A ghostly silence greeted Azariah James, the preacher, 
as he came ambling up on a horse that seemed to glide 
over the surface of the ground. There he sat for some 
moments, speechless, and at first I did not recognise 
him, clad as he was in hunting costume, with a fringe 
about the cape, a coon-skin cap on his head, a rifle slung 
over his shoulders, and a pistol and dirk before him. 

But the man himself had not changed. It w^as the 
same face, naively absent-minded and wonderingly 
mute, that I had seen at the meeting-house — the man 
who began his sermon by a series of blunders and then 
glided along by some miraculous means to an unex- 
pected and memorable triumph. Now, as then, he 
looked as if he were floating along with the tide and 
the hour, ready for the unforeseen without expecting 
it, armed for trouble without fearing it. 



124 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

We stood looking at the preacher and he at us, but 
no one spoke. 

What an enigmatical group we must have been to 
the peeping fugitives a little distance away ! There 
sat Azariah James, the preacher, twin brother in spirit 
to Elihu Gest, the Load-Bearer ; yet what a contrast 
they presented ! The preacher appeared double his 
natui'al size, clothed in a hunter's garb, awaiting some 
mysterious command ; and the Load-Bearer, thinner, 
smaller, almost wizened, seemed to be awaiting some 
word or sign on the part of the preacher. 

And a sign did come ; but not from Azariah James. 
Down to the south, through the thick groves of beech, 
a yellow light rose and fell and rose again in slow 
waving flashes over the horizon, its glow reaching 
above the wooded cover, and even beyond the belted 
line of timber to the east. 

"Whatkinthetbe?" 

It was Cornelia who spoke, for the two men were 
still rapt in a kind of mystical quandary. 

" Thar's sunthin' goin' on down thar er my name 
ain't Elihu Gest, en the Lord ain't sent ye, Azariah," 
remarked the Load-Bearer. 

"I 'low ye're right," replied the preacher; "the 
prairie's a-burnin' cl'ar from a mile bey on' Lem 
Stephens's, plumb te the bend in the creek." 

"The prairie on fire, en at this time o' night!" 
exclaimed Cornelia ; " what kin it mean ? " 

"Why, it means that the Almighty air with we 
uns, en agin Lem Stephens en the slave- catchers." 

" Air it runnin' him clost ? " 

" Ez fer ez I kin jedge it must be closin' in on him 
about now," responded the preacher, with surprising 



THE FLIGHT 125 

nonchalance. ''A passel o' good-fer-nothin's banded 
tharselves together te come over en take off the run- 
aways en git the rewards. They 'lowed te be hyar by 
this time so ez te head off Brother Snedeker. I come 
right by Lem Stephens's en see 'em let the blood- 
hounds loose, en jest ez the hounds lit out over this 
way the prairie began te blaze, so all hands stayed 
right thar te watch the place." 

The Load-Bearer began to shake off his seeming 
lethargy. 

'' Whar be the blood-hounds now ? " he asked. 

''Wharbe they? I reckon they air right whar 
yer dogs en my pistol left 'em down the road thar." 

" They air dead ! " cried Cornelia. 

" They air dead ! " echoed a mournful voice behind 
the house. 

The cry was taken up by other fugitives, who 
imagined Isaac Snedeker and his friends had been 
assassinated. 

*' Dey's all dead ! Dey done killed 'em off ! " arose 
on all sides from the dark forms now emerging from 
their hiding-places. 

An ever-increasing glamour shone through the 
woods to the south, and the runaways now saw it for 
the first time. It hushed their cries and murmurs as 
if a damper had suddenly been placed over their mouths. 

Azariah James got off his horse, tied up, and 
followed Cornelia Gest into the kitchen. 

" 'Pears like they won't never git here to-night," 
she sighed. 

" 'Bout how many d'ye expect ? " 

" Brother Snedeker en two er three more ; but he's 
a-comin' te carry the runaways te the nex' station. 



126 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

I don't calc'late he'll stay more'n long 'nough te load 
up en git away ez quick ez iver he kin." 

There were sounds of horses' hoofs and wagon wheels 
outside. 

Cornelia Gest went to the door. 

" Thank the Lord ye've got here at last ! " she 
exclaimed, greeting a slender man with a long, 
greyish beard, who was helping out an elderly woman 
clad in deep black. 

"It's Squar Higgins," said Cornelia; "en Sister 
Higgins hez come along te cher a body by thet beau- 
tiful smile o' her'n ; Elihu allers says it's like the 
grace o' God a-smilin' on the hull world when shes 
aroun'." 

And so it was ; for Martha Higgins was another of 
those wonderful women whose very presence diffused 
an influence of peace and harmony. Her faith and 
confidence in the Divine goodness were incorruptible 
and never-ending. She brought with her a radiant 
power that aroused the preacher to thoughts of praise 
and thanksgiving for all the mercies of the past and 
present. With her presence, the terrors of the night 
receded, and the preacher, with his eyes half closed, 
began to hum a few bars of a favourite hymn. 

Meanwhile the Load-Bearer had quietly slipped 
away to have a look over the prairie. He had climbed 
a large withered tree which stood on a knoll, and was 
watching a thin tongue of fire licking up the grass 
away towards the bend in the creek not far from Lem 
Stephens's frame house. From this tree he had often 
looked out before, but never on such a sight as this. 
He watched the flames dart up here and there in 
sudden flashes as they caught the strips of taller 



THE FLIGHT 127 

grass in the low soil near the water, dying down 
where the ground was higher and the grass thinner. 
He could not at first make out in what direction the 
flames were moving, nor could he yet tell whether 
they had reached the frame house. The whole region 
before him lay circled in a rim of fire. Never had he 
been in such intimate communion with the mighty 
forces of the Eternal ; never had he felt the breath of 
the night come with so much inspiration and judg- 
ment. It seemed to Elihu Gest that fire had descended 
from the skies, that a ban had been placed on the 
movements of evil-doers in that section and for miles 
around ; and while he pondered and marvelled over 
the wonders of the night he felt the " Living Presence " 
throb through his being with a quickening power that 
lifted him clear above and away from mortal things. 
He shouted aloud one of his favourite passages from 
the Old Testament. He was about to descend when a 
long sheet of flame leaped into the sky. Lem Stephens's 
house was ablaze : it was burning like a box of 
tinder. Now the barn caught ; now the brushwood 
behind the house was blazing. The border of the 
creek was a mass of flame. It looked as if a fiery 
serpent were moving in a zigzag along its border, 
rising and falling on great wings of fire, then dis- 
appearing, to rise again in another place. 

A current of wind was created by the heat, and 
flames darted from the other side of the water. 

When he returned, Elihu Gest found Isaac Snede- 
ker — who had brought several more refugees with him 
— the two Higgins', Azariah James, and Cornelia, all 
sitting in a semi-circle in the kitchen, and after 
greeting Mr. Snedeker he took a seat at one end. 



128 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

There followed a period of deep, devotional quietude 
in which each one sat as if alone. There was the 
grey-bearded Squire Higgins, with his big brows and 
kindly face ; there was Cornelia Gest, slender, frail 
and shrunken, in her seat ; there was Azariah James, 
whose broodings defied all divination ; there was 
Isaac Snedeker, stern and restless as an eagle about 
to take wing ; and Martha Higgins, whose high, 
massive forehead and arching nose contrasted strangely 
with the bountiful kindness of her dreamy eyes, while 
her smile expressed a faith that was infinite and 
undying. 

At one end sat Elihu Gest, obscure carrier of other 
people's loads, impulsive and enigmatical seer, last in 
the long procession of the ante-bellum prophets of old 
Illinois. 

A shout was heard, and Elihu looked at Martha 
Higgins as he said : — 

" They ain't calc'lated te understand what it air 
thet's workin' out te save them." 

" Martha had a presentiment before we came," 
observed Squire Higgins. " I have never known her 
to be wrong." 

"Who lit thet fire '? " queried Cornelia Gest. 
" 'Twarn't you. Brother Snedeker ? " 

" That's what I've been wanting to know : I came 
near being caught in it, and now I'll have to wait here 
till I see how far it's going to spread." 

" It hez plumb licked up Lem Stephens's house," 
said the Load-Bearer. "I see it from the big tree." 

" I want te know ! " exclaimed Cornelia. 

" Thar ain't nothin' left by this time. If Lem 
Stephens en the slave-hunters ain't hidin' in the water 



THE FLIGHT 129 

they air burnt up. Thar's a mighty power movin' 
over the yearth ; I ain't see a night sech ez this sence 
the comet fust appeared." 

Isaac Snedeker went out with Squii-e Higgins to 
survey the land. A wall of fire rose above the creek, 
to the south ; an immense, palpitating glow lit the 
sky — a glow that flashed like sheet-lightning along 
the course of the creek, for a wind had risen which 
forced the flames straight towards the Load-Bearer's 
home. There was a rushing sound where it began to 
skim the upper branches ; then a current of warm air 
struck through the open space leading from the creek 
to the house. The woods rang with the screaming of 
birds ; the howling of a wolf again haunted the lonely 
plains to the north, and a little later an awful roar 
told that the fire had reached the tall, thick grass and 
brushwood that lined the water's edge not more than a 
quarter of a mile from the house. 

" De comet done struck de yearth ! De world's 
burnin' up ! " 

The runaways no longer thought of slave-hunters 
and a return to bondage. For them all was at an 
end ; and from a sort of dumb despair there issued 
forth groans and exclamations of, " Mercy, Lord ! 
mercy, mercy ! " 

Yet two or three were on the point of escaping to 
the woods. 

Isaac Snedeker, seeing the danger, called out : 

'* All who run away will be caught ! " 

Squire Higgins hardly knew what to do. The 
night seemed like day. The roar of the fire could be 
heard, ever a little nearer, ever more ominous and 
awful. 

v.s. K 



130 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

" If we have to quit," he said at last, "there's not a 
minute to lose ! " 

He was thinking of the safety of the women. 

Even the invincible Isaac Snedeker was shaken by 
forebodings of evil. But when they returned to the 
kitchen and beheld the Load-Bearer in the same place, 
self-poised, self-contained, all doubts departed. 

^' 'Twixt here and thar, thar's a swamp and a 
patchin' o' oak thet won't ketch, en the grass air 
sparse and spindlin', en then comes the big trees. 
But thar's sunthin' else besides the wind thet's blowin' 
them flames, Squar Higgins." 

Even as he spoke the light from the fire was 
gradually descending out of the zenith. Lower and 
lower it fell. In about ten minutes nothing but a dim 
outline of glimmering yellow could be discerned far 
beyond the belt of woods, and once more the moon- 
light reigned ; the patches of light were brighter, the 
shadows deeper ; the wings of unrest were folded, and 
silence returned with a twofold presage. 

"It air about time," said the Load-Bearer, rising 
and placing his hand on the preacher's shoulder. " It 
air time te begin," he intimated to Squire Higgins 
and Isaac Snedeker. 

They all left the kitchen except Cornelia Gest, 
Martha Higgins, and myself. Cornelia's face assumed 
a pensive look ; she wiped away a tear, and said in a 
quavering voice : 

" God be praised ! He allowed her te pass out o' 
this world in peace. I'm right happy te have ye here. 
Sister Higgins, en I jes' knowed ye'd come over when 
Elihu sent ye word." 

" I don't know of anything that could have kept 



THE FLIGHT 131 

me from coming, Sister Gest," replied Mrs. Iliggins, 
" I had a presentiment that she would die right 
here." 

" We couldn't git her te talk about herself, nur 
give her name, nur nothin' ; they're all so afeared 
they'll be sent back te bondage. Thar ain't on'y Mr. 
Snedeker en Brother James en yerselves ez knows 
'bout her havin' died here. If thar warn't so many 
good people aroun' I'd give right up, scein' so many 
wicked. But Elihu said he war boun' te have prayers 
en his favourite hymn sung at the funeral." 

Now for the first time I knew that the quadroon had 
passed away and that this night was appointed for her 
burial. 

We had not long to wait, for presently Squire 
Higgins came and announced that all was ready. 
When we got to the graveside, near the creek, all the 
fugitives stood around, some of them holding lanterns, 
the black faces appearing strangely unnatural in the 
flickering light, the faces of the quadi'oons and 
octoroons more ghostly. Under the trees, half in the 
moonlight, half in shadow, it seemed as if a great 
multitude were crowding up from behind, eager to 
catch every sound that might pass from anyone's lips. 

A soft breeze moved among the last sere leaves of 
autumn. Now and then a gentle gust swayed the 
lower branches to and fro, and an infinitely tender 
sighing came and went and melted away in the eerie 
moonUght. 

The preacher took off his tightly-fitting cap and 
with it his hair stood out in wild rumpled locks. He 
seemed to loom taller and taller. He looked as if he 
had forgotten all he had intended to say, and was 

K 2 



132 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

standing there helpless and forsaken at the brink of 
a grave, over the dead he had come to bury. 

" Praise God ! " murmnred the Load-Bearer, who 
alone of all the persons there seemed to understand. 

Azariah James closed his eyes for one or two 
seconds ; a slight shiver passed through his frame ; 
then he opened them wide and searching, and a 
wondrous light flashed out over the awed and speech- 
less company. He was no longer an awkward, hesi- 
tating dreamer, but a lion aroused, a prophet in his 
own country. His listeners began to move and sway 
in unison with his immeasurable compassion, and after 
he had spoken for ten minutes the Load-Bearer offered 
up a short, fervent prayer. Then, when the last 
scene was about to begin, the voice of Martha Higgins 
rang out above the open grave : 

" On Jordan's stormy banks I stand 
And cast a wistful eye " — 

A loud, rolling wave of song passed in long, reaching 
echoes through the woods as the twenty-nine persons 
present sent their voices calling — 

" To Canaan's fair and happy land 
Where my possessions lie," 

for now every voice was attuned to the old matchless 
melody of the meeting-house and the camp-ground. 

As the hymn proceeded the sense of time was 
obliterated. A far-sweeping chorus, tinged here and 
there with a nameless melancholy, floated upward into 
the white silence of the night. On and on they sang, 
and the old hymn rolled out in a miracle of sound, on 
a river of golden melody, vibrating far into regions of 
infinite light and love. 



THE FLIGHT 188 

Isaac Snedeker gathered up the runaways and 
prepared for flight. He separated them into two 
groups — one he would carry in his own wagon, the 
other was for Squii-e Higgins. It did not take long, 
and the two wagon loads set out in the clear moon- 
light. A little way towards the north they would 
separate, each goiug according to a prearranged plan ; 
and every fugitive arrived at last safely in Canada, 
which was, after all, the land of C-anaan for them. 



CHAPTEE XII 

THE CAMP-MEETING 

On the morning of the great camp-meeting I stood 
at the gate for nearly an hour waiting for a sight of 
the Busby wagon, which was to take us, and when it 
arrived Uriah Busby was so eager to be off that his 
wife had barely time to call out to those standing at 
the door to see us depart : 

"You see it's jest as I said, Uriah says he'll git 
there if it was twice as fur ag'in." 

When we got to the main road we began to see signs 
of gathering campers, but when we reached a place 
called the " mud-holes" people could be seen in every 
direction making for this spot where several roads 
converged into one. 

"Now, Uriah, you ain't a-goin' to land us in the 
mud, air ye ? " said Mrs. Busby, as we neared the 
deceitful holes. " If there ain't them Wagner boys, 
plague take 'em ! I do hope we kin git through afore 
they do." 

" I reckon they ain't been drinking yet," said her 
husband ; " it's too early in the day." 

" I don't know 'bout that," returned Serena Busby. 
"They don't look accommodatin', en ye see they're 
doin' their level best to git ahead of us." 

The Wagner boys were urging on their horses 
almost to a gallop. 

" Now, Uriah, don't be a fool ; jest rein up en let 



THE CAMP-MEETING 136 

'em go it all they want to ; the folks at the camp ain't 
a-goin' to shout much afore we git there ; en besides, 
if ye dump me in the mud it'll be the fust en the last 
time." 

Uriah Busby did as he was told. The Wagner boys 
made a dash for the crossing, but in the rush to be 
fii-st they went too far to the right. When they got to 
the middle, at a place where the mud looked shallow 
but was in reality deep, over went the wagon and out 
toppled the brothers. 

" Providence air on oui* side," said Uriah, as he took 
extra pains to keep to the left. 

" It'll take some o' the dare-devil out of 'em, en if 
it had been a Baptist camp-meetin' it 'ud took some 
sousin' in the creek to wash the mud from their bodies 
as well as the sins from their souls," remarked Mrs. 
Busby. 

Other travellers followed, all giving that particular 
side of the crossing a wide berth. In about three 
hours we arrived at another point where we could see 
scores of people in wagons, buggies, and on horse- 
back, making for the camp, now distant about an 
hour. Many of the horses " carried double," while in 
some of the big covered wagons sat whole families. A 
blinding dust filled the air and covered our clothes, as 
we di'ove along in the wake of others, receiving theu- 
dust and kicking more of it up for those at our heels. 
As the day began to grow hot we saw many indulging 
in "drams" from the demijohn, and Serena Busby 
remarked that there was sure to be some " kickin'-up " 
at the camp towards evening. 

As we got within two miles of the grounds the whole 
populace, for a radius of many miles, seemed to be on 



136 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

the move, converging towards one point. From a 
slight eminence which we had just attained, com- 
manding a view on all sides, a scraggy line of white- 
topped wagons could be seen descending a slope to the 
right, while to the left, a little below us, another line 
of twisting vehicles ascended in a slow, weary train, 
enveloped in clouds of dust, now partly hidden behind 
clumps of trees, now emerging like the remnant of 
some scattered army crawling towards the precincts of 
a friendly country. Once in a while we were passed by 
young men on horseback who galloped their horses ; 
others, in light buggies, shot past the heavy wagons 
and were soon out of sight ; hundreds were on foot, 
looking neither to the right nor to the left, and these, 
as Uriah Busby observed, were the ones in dead 
earnest, bound to get there no matter how. 

We drove into the camp grounds about one o'clock, 
and found two or three thousand persons already there, 
with others pouring in by the hundred. 

A shed had been erected large enough to shelter 
several thousand persons, and out in the woods, 
beyond the confines of the meeting-grounds, groups 
of old reprobates and young rowdies had taken their 
stand with whisky barrels and demijohns ready to 
supply all who cared for strong drink, some of them 
armed with pistols and murderous-looking knives. 
Everyone was eating or getting ready to eat, for the 
women had brought a goodly supply of edibles. 
Tents were put up by some, while others would sleep 
in the covered wagons, the men mostly under the 
wagons or under the shed. It looked like an immense 
gathering for a picnic ; and it was impossible to say 
from the expression of people's faces what sort of a 



THE CAMP-MEETING 187 

meeting it was, for no one seemed over-anxious ; all 
seemed contented to be there let come what may. 
Indeed, Mrs. Busby was right when she suid : — 

" Te jedge by theii- looks they hev all saved their 
souls en air now attendin' to their bodies, not te git 
te the other world afore their time." 

Uriah Busby unhitched the horses at a spot near 
the creek, and after dinner Serena began to look 
about her. 

Presently she discovered someone she knew. 

" Why, if there ain't Zack Caverly, of all people 
in the world ! " 

" Wal, I'll be blamed ! " exclaimed Mr. Busby. 
'' Ye don't reckon he's come te sell whisky, 
do ye ? " 

"I reckon not. Zack's ez sober ez an owl, en ye 
know it. Wal ! If there ain't Minerva Wagner ! I 
want to know how she got here ! Must hev come 
a-hossback, if she didn't come in a neighbour's 
wagon, fearin' te risk her neck with them two good- 
fer-nothin's." 

And, sure enough, there was Mrs. Wagner, seated 
on a big stump, talking to Ebenezer Hicks. 

" My word ! " said Uriah Busby ; " it do give me a 
disagreeable feelin' to see them fire-eatin' Baptists 
settin' there waitin' fer te stir up mischief agin the 
Abolitionists en the Methodists. They ain't out here 
fer any good, I kin tell ye." 

" You better b'lieve they ain't here fer any religion 
they kin pick up ; I believe I ain't never seen her 
look so sour and spiteful." 

Zack Caverly led his horse over and settled himself 
near our wa";on. 



138 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

" I heerd ye war comin','' he said, '' en the weather 
"bein' fine I fixed te ride over en take things sort o' 
easy dimn' meetin' time." 

"Hev ye see many folks ye know ? " asked Uriah 
Busby. 

" The whole kintry's turnin' out ; thar's goin' te be 
the biggest meetin' ever holdin' in this section. Ye 
see, it's the fire-eatin' question thet's got hold on 'em, 
en they all want te see which a-way the black cat's 
a-goin' te jump. Summow, right er wrong, the 
people hev an idee that this here meetin' ain't so much 
fer religion ez it air fer politics, en thet's why ye see 
so many Baptists en Campbellites en Presbyterians en 
members o' the Methodist Church South sprinkled all 
over the grounds. I heerd a man say they've got 
Abe Lincoln on the brain." 

'''Pears to me," said Mrs. Busby, "it's niggers 
more likely." 

The afternoon and evening of Thursday were given 
up to preliminary services and to getting the huge 
meeting into working order, and on Friday afternoon 
the number of people on the ground was computed at 
twenty thousand. 

Eeligious services were held three times a day, and 
in case of a revival the evening service would be pro- 
tracted far into the night, perhaps all night, as it often 
happened at such gatherings. But somehow the 
meetings on Friday seemed without any signs of 
enthusiasm; the people listened with respect to all 
that was said, and they sang with a hearty will, but 
there was something lacking. Uriah Busby remarked 
to Zack Caverly that it was a spark from Heaven 
that was wanting, to which the old pioneer replied 



THE CAMP-MEETING 189 

that he thought so too, as there was plenty of tinder 
in the congregation. 

Before the evening service on this day, Friday, 
Elihu Gest, Squire Higgins, Azariah James, and 
several others decided on going out into the woods to 
a lonely spot and praying for a revival at the next 
service. 

The people were all expectation at meeting- time, 
the preachers did their hest, exhorters exhorted, but 
there were no happy shouts, no groans of mental 
misery, no conviction of sins. Squire Higgins said he 
had often seen the like before, and counselled hope and 
courage, but the Load-Bearer was certain they had 
not prayed with sufficient faith and fervour. " The 
people," he declared, " air all right, but they must be 
tetched." 

Saturday came, and at the morning service it was 
decided to have a short but positive sermon on the 
sins of the times, with some pointed remarks against 
slavery ; for a good many were of the opinion that 
this would fire up the people and prepare a way for a 
revival in the afternoon. The sermon was preached 
by a stranger from Missouri, but it failed to do more 
than create a lively interest in the political questions 
of the hour, and, curious to relate, just as this meeting 
was brought to a close the negroes on the ground, who 
numbered between two and thi-ee hundred, began a 
meeting of theii' own off at one side of the white 
camp, where certain freed negroes were found who 
actually believed in slavery. 

Their meeting was conducted in the orthodox 
Methodist manner ; but those of the coloured people 
who belonged to the Methodist Church South were 



140 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

believers in slavery, wliile the Methodist Church North 
were against it, many of its members being extreme 
Abolitionists. The coloured meeting was conducted 
by two negro exhorters, presided over by a white 
preacher, and when the exercises began by the singing 
of a popular hymn : 

" De golden chariot's hangin' low, 
My breddern you'll be called on " — 

the whole meeting, as Zack Caverly said, was soon 
put in the "weaving way"; the great yellow eyes 
began to roll in a sort of subdued ecstasy, the black 
faces beamed contentment, and woolly heads rocked 
in keeping with the lilt of the music. 

It was not long before a tall, glossy black negro, 
with small, piercing eyes and thick lips, rose,' and 
with a look of mingled humour and cynicism, began 
to speak. 

" Breddern an' sistern," he said ; " some o' you done 
hearn w'at de preacher ober in de white camp said 
'bout dis yer slavery biznuz, an' I wuz askin' to myself 
ez I sot an' heerd you all singin' an' gettin' happy — 
which is better fer de coloured folks, to be boun' in 
dis wurrul an' free in de nex', er te be free in dis 
wurrul an' boun' after you am dead ? " 

He licked his lips and eyed the congregation for a 
moment before proceeding. 

"I ain't got time to stan' heah an' answer no 
questions 'bout de rights an' de wrongs ob de coloured 
folks, but I 'low dar's some folks in dis meetin' wat's 
run away fr'm der mastahs an' ain't in no hurry to go 
back. But which am it better to do — cross ober 
Jordan inter Canaan, er cross de State line inter 



THE CAMP.]\rEETING 141 

Canada ? I'se gwine to make de observation 'bout de 
black snake w'at change his skin, kase some ob you 
settin' heah to-day done gone and made de change an' 
ain't no-ways better oif. 

" Dar wiiz a black snake w'at lef home an' 'gin ter 
wander roun', but de sun gittin' sorter hot he say ter 
hissef, ' I reckin hit's 'bout time fer to shed dis heah 
skin, hit gittin' too hot to carry ' ; so he des slip hit 
off, an' he done felt he gwine ter fly instead er crawl 
on de groun'. \VTien de night come on de wedder 
done git mighty cole, an' 'fo' long he come 'cross a 
skin a rattle-snake des shuck hissef out'n. Mist' black 
snake say ter hissef, ' I des 'bout slip in dar an' keep 
warm ' ; but he ain't no sooner slip in dan 'long come 
a white man wid a big stick an' he say, ' I don't 
nebber kill no black snakes, but I kill all de rattle- 
snakes I ebber come 'cross,' and wid dat he up an' kill 
de black snake fust lick. 

" Now, breddern, dis heah ain't no sermon. I'se 
speakin' in w'at dey calls de paraboils ; dat's de 
meanin' ob de observation fer de coloured folks, an' 
dat is — don't nebber change yo' 'ligion, an' dont 
nebber run away fr m yo' masters." 

Despair took possession of the runaways who were 
sitting listening, and during the proceedings that 
followed one of the fugitives sought counsel of Isaac 
Snedeker, who was attending the camp-meeting and 
who had arranged that a number of runaways were to 
gather here, this being considered the safest plan that 
could be devised to accomplish their liberation. 

The sensation created by the negro's story was such 
that for the space of half an hour no preaching, nor 
singing, nor exhorting would move the congregation ; 



142 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

but after a vigorous effort on the part of the preacher 
and exhorters a movement of revival became apparent 
at the farthest end of the meeting, seeing which one 
of the exhorters pointed over the heads of the people, 
and, with an angry look, cried out : 

" Muster up dem mo'ners dar ! Prone 'em up, 
Brudder Dixon. Brudder Luke Henry, mourn up 
dem w'ats a-pantin' an faintin' down dar in de furder 
aisle. Sis' Jones, whar's yo' singin' -voice ? You ain't 
been out las' night a-imitatin' dem squinch-owls, is 
you ? Now. help 'long dar ! I low we goin' keep 
Satan fr m clippin yo' wings by de Lord's help dis 
day." 

The meeting of the coloured people proceeded in 
due order, and by the time it came to an end the 
afternoon service began in the main camp. The 
people sat and listened but did not respond, and some 
of the leaders were haunted by a presentiment of 
failure. To make matters worse, the drunken rowdies 
beyond the camp began to harass the preachers from 
the rear, near the creek. Under the influence of cheap, 
fiery whisky some of them acted like madmen, and a 
plan was concocted to duck Azariah James in the 
creek in the evening, after the last service. 

The evening meeting began early and lasted till 
late. At its close another consultation was held among 
the preachers. Once more it was declared necessary 
to go out and plead for grace and power to bring 
about a revival. Uriah Busby advised his wife 
to invite Elihu Gest and Azariah James over to the 
wagon to take a " cold check, ez brother Gest looks 
clean washed out en Brother James caved in, after 
that long sermon o' his'n." 



THE CAMP-MEETING 143 

" A cold check I " exclaimed Serena ; " you better 
Mieve they want somethin' else besides hard boiled 
eggs en bread en butter. Ill fix 'em up some real 
strong coffee, steamin' hot. I kin boil the water in a 
jiffy in that new kittle we brought 'long ; en I 
calc'late ivell take a nip o' somethin' er nuther ez long 
ez we're 'bout it, fer I feel a mite caved in myself, en 
I reckin ye all do. I declare to goodness, Uriah, 
I ain't see ye look so floppy since the comet scare ! " 

The two invited guests came, and Mrs. Busby 
spread a cloth on the ground and was about to prepare 
the meal with the hot coffee when suddenly the Load- 
Bearer interposed : 

'' Jes' wait a while. Sister Busby. 'Taint no use — 
I cain't wrastle with the sperit on a full stommick. 
I ain't never hed no prayers answered that a- way. 
We've got te go out yander en pray, en if ever I felt 
the need of it it's right now. " 

' ' The meetin' wus sorter cold, en thet's a fac', said 
Uriah Busby. 

" It war lukewarm ; thet's the wust thing a man 
kin say, for it shows thet the people feel comfortable- 
like in thar sins." 

" It's a pity Pete Cartwright's too feeble to be here," 
remarked Serena, " fer if he wus hcd put 'em into hot 
water quicker'n lightnin'. A lot o' them folks don't 
want preachin' half so much ez brimstone; some 
preachers carry it in their pockets like, en jes' throw 
it over the people." 

The preachers were gone about a quarter of an hour 
and then returned to the Busby wagon and partook 
of refreshments. The Load-Bearer's face was beaming 
with contentment. 



144 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

" I feel like our prayers hev been heerd at the 
throne o' grace," he said, as he seated himself on the 
ground and took the coffee Mrs. Busby offered him in 
a large tin cup ; " en this is the fust time I've hed the 
feelin' since the meetin' opened. Te-morrer's the day." 

" It most allers is,'' remarked Uriah. 

" Thefs so,'' added Mrs. Busby ; " it takes two or 
three days fer a meetin' like this te git het through 
en through." 

" I hev noticed more'n oncet how Sunday kin be 
favoured by an outpourin o' the Sperit ; en if Sunday 
passes 'thout a shakin' o' dry bones thar ain't much 
hope left fer any protracted meetin'." 

" Thet's a fac', Brother Gest," remarked Azariah 
James ; " Sunday's the holy day in more ways 'n one. 
What's done hez te be done, en will be done 
te-morrer." 

''Here comes Brother Snedeker ! " 

"Law me ! " exclaimed Serena. " IVe been wonderin' 
what hed become o' ye." 

'' And I have been hunting for you all," he said, 
coming up to the circle. " There are a good many 
rowdies and cut-throats on the outskii-ts of the camp, 
and it looks as if they were hatching mischief ; they 
have been drinking hard all the evening and are still 
at it." 

'' Air thar any slave-drivers among 'em ? " asked 
Uriah. 

" Not that I know of, but they are all enemies of 
this meeting, and they are being encouraged by the 
whisky-drinkers and pro-slavery Christians." 

" But we ain't been disturbed in the meetin's yet, 
that's one good thing." 



THE CAMP-MEETING 146 

" No, but there's been fighting out round the 
whisky-wagons every time the people assemble for 
preaching. We are forming a company to protect the 
preachers and the services to-morrow. We've got to 
get at least a hundred men em-oUed as watchmen, and 
another hundred who will swear to up and help if the 
watchmen prove insufficient." 

" I ain't got no special fears no-ways," said Elihu 
Gest; "that is, not now." 

" But ye hed before ye went out te wrastle," said 
Uriah Busby. 

" I tell you what it is, brethren," said Isaac 
Snedeker, " I shall not be able to remain at the camp 
longer than to-morrow midnight. I have three or 
four loads of runaways to look after, and you, Brother 
Gest, will have to take a party of ten. Brother 
James will be allotted about the same number, and 
I'll take as many as my wagon will hold." 

" I reckon," said the Load-Bearer, " we'll hev te 
fix te git clear o' the camp by Sunday night, fust 
thing after preachin' closes." 

" Here comes Squire Higgins ! " exclaimed Serena ; 
" sumthin's th' matter ! " 

'' We want all hands over by the preachers* 
tent," he said hurriedly ; " there's going to be 
trouble." 

The Squire carried a stout hickory stick, and advised 
all the others to arm themselves with the same kind 
of weapon. 

Most of the campers were asleep by this time, but 
as we approached the spot indicated excited talk 
could be heard and groups of men gathered as if in 
consultation. 

Y.S. L 



146 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

The preachers' tent stood behind the public platform, 
midway between it and the creek, and here stood the 
wagons, buggies, and rockaways of the preachers and 
elders. The ruffians began by imitating the crowing 
of cocks, the squealing of pigs, the shouting of " con- 
victed " sinners, the mewing of cats ; and while one 
band was engaged in holding the attention of the 
preachers, another began to move off one of the 
buggies to roll it over the bank into the creek, which 
was ten feet deep at this place. 

Elder Johnson's buggy was already wheeled to 

within a few feet of the bank ; two of the rowdies 

were about to let it fall into the water when Isaac 

Snedeker brought his hickory stick down on the back 

of the leader with such force that a cry of pain went 

up from the culprit. The buggy was abandoned, but, 

in the meantime, Azariah James had been seized from 

behind by two powerful ruffians and was being led to 

the creek to be thrown in. He went without offering 

the slightest resistance ; but just as they reached the 

bank the muscular preacher turned nimbly, and 

bobbing up and down twice, in the twinkling of an eye, 

he flung into the creek first one, then the other of his 

would-be duckers. While this was going on another 

carriage was being rolled towards the water, about 

twenty yards away. This band was headed by the 

two Wagner boys, who, sufficiently intoxicated to be 

reckless of danger, were pulling the buggy by the 

shafts ; but while they were pulling it in front others 

were pushing from behind, and when they came to the 

brink over went the buggy and the two brothers into 

the creek I Mingled shouts of victory and derision 

went up, and it was some time before the younger of 



THE CAMP-MEETING 147 

the two got out of the water and climbed, half drowned, 
up the bank. 

Several knock-down fights were going on in the 
vicinity, and amidst the general uproar no one had 
time to think of the lifeless body of the other brother, 
now lying in the creek. 

Azariah James, Elder Johnson, Isaac Snedeker, and 
their assistants, had given the ringleaders a severe 
drubbing, stripped them of their weapons and driven 
them, like so many sheep, in every direction. 

Azariah James and Isaac Snedeker now formed a 
party to attack the venders of whisky, which they 
did at the break of day, driving them from the place 
after pouring out the whisky on the ground. 

Xot a cloud was to be seen when the sun rose that 
Sunday morning. The smoke from the breakfast fires 
curled slowly up through the trees, and the odour of 
burning leaves and dry twigs perfumed the air with 
delicious fragrance. The day was warm ; people felt 
it was good to be alive, and many expressed a wish 
that life would always be just like this. 

Elihu Gest was right when he predicted that 
nothing much would come of the morning service. 
Serena Busby said the only two things the people did 
with spirit was eating and singing. Alone, of all the 
leaders in the camp, the Load-Bearer took a joyful 
view of the religious situation. The others were 
growing more and more pessimistic, 

" The people air plumb sot in the sins o' the flesh," 
was what Elder Johnson said when he left the plat- 
form after the morning service ; but Elihu Gest went 
so far as to whistle with " good feelin's," so that many 
of the preachers began to regard him as somewhat 

L 2 



148 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

suspect in earnestness. The proceedings at the after- 
noon meeting were little more than a repetition of the 
preceding service ; Elihu Gest, however, was nowhere 
to he seen and Uriah Busby guessed he was " away 
summars wrastlin' fer extry power." 

The night settled down on the camp clear, calm, and 
beautiful ; the people gathered in their places before 
the great platform and altar palings a full half -hour 
before the time fixed for the opening exercises, and 
the number present exceeded that of any meeting yet 
held. 

However, services did not begin for some little 
time after the hour fixed, as the body of the drowned 
man was not discovered in the creek till now, and the 
preachers were engaged in consultation behind the 
big tent. 

As the evening wore on the air became close and 
sultry, and a feeling of lethargy bore down on the 
people. Someone had advised the singing of several 
hymns as the best mode of getting the congregation 
into working order, and hymn after hymn was sung 
while a tall, long-haired leader stood beating time 
with his outstretched arm, waving to and fro with 
an eccentric lilt of the body, up and down. The plat- 
form was now filled with the preachers and exhorters, 
and in some manner the whole front and all the sur- 
rounding camp seemed metamorphosed. Something 
extraordinary had happened. Yet it was not possible 
to say what. 

A storm was approaching ; but those who were 
engaged in singing paid little heed to the rumbling of 
thunder. A few minutes more and a squall descended 
over the camp and a vivid flash sent a thrill through 



THE CAMP-MEETING 149 

the assembly. The crash was followed by a hurricane 
of shifting light that swept down closer and closer 
over the camp. The lightning seemed to spring from 
the ground, the air, the woods, the camp itself, and 
it seemed as if objects moved in keeping with the 
quick sheets of fire that came as bolts from the 
heavens. Only a few lights were left in the lanterns, 
and there was something spectral about the vast con- 
course swaying like grizzled phantoms on the brink of 
a yawning abyss. 

Just before the hurricane passed away a dazzling 
bolt struck the big elm beside the platform. It fell 
in a blue-white zigzag, and to many of the more 
superstitious it resembled nothing so much as a fiery 
serpent poured from a vial of wrath overhead, for it 
split the elm in two, the peal of thunder and the 
cleaving timber mingling in one terrific report. 

A great shout arose from the people near the tree, 
and the commotion in that part of the meeting had 
hardly subsided when a voice was heard as one calling 
fi'om the shores of Tartarus. 

Elihu Gest stood on the platform facing the assembly, 
and a new meaning was added to the confusion and 
the ghostly candle-light. A picture of peculiar fasci- 
nation was now presented to the wondering and half- 
dazed people. Arrayed behind the Load-Bearer, in 
a jagged semi-circle that stretched from one end of 
the platform to the other, sat all the preachers and 
exhorters. Witnesses who had once mourned as 
penitents before the altar now marshalled to make others 
mourn, as fixed and motionless as statues hewn fi'om 
syenite ; for there was about them something of the 
mien of Egyptian bas-reliefs seated at the door 



150 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

separating life and death. Some were bearded and 
grimly entrenched behind a hairy mask ; others, in 
their long, pointed goatees, sharpened the picture ; 
while others again, clean-shaven, and peering straight 
before them, presented a death-like pallor, at once 
frail and frightful, suggesting the keynote of the 
incommensurable symphony of human emotions now 
about to begin. 

A deep, apprehensive solemnity pervaded every 
portion of the congregation when the Load-Bearer 
shouted, in tones that penetrated to the far end of the 
camp : " You are being weighed in the balance ! 
Tophet is yawning for the unregenerate ! " 

A sensation as if the ground had begun to move 
and float spread through the multitude ; and when a 
little later, he cried : " You're hangin' to the hinges 
of Time by a hair ! " all doubts vanished. Heads 
began to droop, bodies swayed from side to side, 
and then, one by one, in couples, in groups, every- 
where in the meeting, people fell to the ground, while 
stifled groans and loud lamentations issued from 
hundreds of throats at once. 

The mourners at the altar were now several rows 
deep, but still the crowd staggered forward. The 
camp resembled a coast strewn with the dead and 
dying after a great wreck, and a murmuring tumult 
alternately rose and fell like that from a moaning 
wind and a surging sea. 

The night of nights had come ! It seemed as if 
hundreds were in the throes of death and would never 
rise, so that a mingling of pity and dread filled those 
who had long since professed religion ; for the strange 
union of material and spiritual forces, the upturned 



THE CAMP-MEETING 151 

faces, tlic gaping mouths, the gasping sighs, the 
clenched hands, the sudden falling away of all worldly 
props, the swift descent from the mountain of vanity 
to the vale of sorrows rendered, for a moment, even 
the helpers and exhorters speechless ; but, as Elihu 
Gest finished, the exhorters on the platform rose and 
scattered, each to a particular work, some descending 
amongst the people, some addressing them from the 
stand. 

All the camp lights were now burning. In the 
midst of the greatest confusion Squire Higgins stood 
up where he could be seen, and called out : "Is Sister 
Kezia Jordan present ? " 

The people at that corner of the meeting rose from 
their seats. The Load-Bearer and Azariah James 
were lifting someone on to the corner of the platform. 
Again Squire Higgins stood up and called out Mrs. 
Jordan's name, and the word was passed from one 
end of the camp to the other. ' ' Sister Jordan ! where 
is Sister Jordan ? " All preaching and exhorting 
ceased. An awful silence settled over the meeting, 
for there, on the platform, lay all that was left of Ike 
Jordan, who had been killed under the big elm when 
a portion of the tree had fallen. 

At last Mrs. Jordan appeared at the bottom of the 
steps, at the left. She looked as if she might be 
walking in her sleep, and Martha Higgins was leading 
her by the arm. They mounted the steps slowly. 
At the top Elihu Gest and Azariah James stood 
waiting. On the platform a transformation had 
occurred. Seated again in a long semi-circle were 
the stern, statuesque figures, the faces more solemn 
and anxious, more strained and yearning than ever ; 



152 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

and as Kezia Jordan passed along the platform and 
approached the remains the Load-Bearer turned as if 
suddenly inspired, and addressed her with the words : 
" The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away," and 
all the preachers finished the sentence with him: 
" Blessed be the name of the Lord." 

Mrs. Jordan now stood full in the lantern light, and 
her pallor was plainly visible. She bent over the 
body, then rose and whispered some words to Elihu 
Gest. He turned, and facing the multitude announced 
as loud as he could speak that Sister Jordan accepted 
this great affliction in a spirit of faith and resignation, 
and with her hand across her forehead, her eyes half- 
closed, like one who had been dazed by a sudden and 
bewildering vision, Kezia Jordan was led away by 
Martha Higgins and the Load-Bearer down the steps. 

Prayers and exhortations followed, and the shouting, 
the hurrying to and fro, gave place to a feeling it 
would be impossible to describe. 

And now, far down on the outskirts of the congre- 
gation, a voice was heard, high, shrill and broken, 
which caused the people to turn in their seats and 
riveted every eye to a spot where a tall figure 
advanced, dimly visible, up the middle aisle. Out of 
the woods and the night the apparition seemed to have 
come, and with tottering steps, hair dishevelled, face 
trembling and distorted, the once unbending form of 
Minerva Wagner staggered towards the mourners' 
bench, the colour gone from her rugged face, the 
indomitable will from her proud, grey eyes, all her 
strength departed. 

She had just left the body of her son. 

" Take me, take me, in all my misery ! " she cried 



THE CAMP-MEETING 153 

out. " I'm an old woman in despair ! I'm a stricken 
woman ! Pray for me ! " 

She turned twice in a sort of whirl, and cast a look 
of unutterable woe on the people on either side, who, 
seized with feelings of awe and dismay at the sight 
before them, could scarcely realise what was happening. 
She staggered on, now assisted by friendly hands, and, 
when she arrived at the altar, fell in a swoon among 
the long rows of mourners. 

All night the revival went on, and the next day, 
and the next ; but on that same Sunday night, as the 
Load-Bearer left the camp-grounds, and heard the 
multitude singing : 

" The year of jubilee has come, 
Return ye rausomed sinners home." 

he waved his hand and cried : " Let 'em mourn, let 
'em mourn; jedgment ain't far off ! " 



CHAPTEE XIII 

THE PIONEER OF THE SANGAMON COUNTRY 

One evening a well-dressed stranger called at the 
Log-House and asked my father for hospitality for the 
night. He proved to be a lawyer from the southern 
part of the State, who was on his way north on 
horseback. 

Socrates was already there with one of his friends, 
a rather distant neighbour. 

Coffee was made twice in a large pot, and the cups 
used were of the largest kind, even for those days. 
Yet, somehow, there was a feeling that so much 
stimulant was just the thing for that particular even- 
ing, for Socrates and his friend had already told us 
several stories of the earlier days in the South-west, 
and the stranger was evidently being wound up for a 
recital of something extraordinary in his life. 

I had not yet seen such a character. Eather tall, 
inclined to thinness, but with a large, bony frame, 
with broad, angular shoulders, his long, dark face and 
piercing black eyes were set off by a rough, pointed 
goatee which seemed to sprout from his chin spon- 
taneously like a weapon and a warning. And yet, 
with all the seeming hardness, this stranger must 
have been a lover of Nature and a sort of undeveloped 
poet. 

When at last we rose from the supper-table a half- 
circle was formed around the hearth, and the stranger 



PIONEER OF THE SANGAMON COUNTRY 155 

settled himself, and, little by little, began to move 
into the mysterious past, yet not so mysterious for 
him as for us, the listeners. 

" You see," he said, in answer to some questions 
put by my father, " most of the settlers hereabouts 
in those days came from Virginia, Kentucky, and 
Tennessee. I came in from west of the Blue Eidge ; 
and Western Virginia thirty or forty years ago was 
about like Illinois is now.'' 

" Consid'ably mixed,'' remarked Socrates. 

" Yes, sii*, and for that reason we had all sorts of 
people willing to stay, and all sorts willing to make 
tracks for parts unknown. You've heard of the old- 
time Regulators, I reckon ? Wal, I was at the first 
meeting of the kind that ever took place in this 
country, and to tell ye how it happened I must go 
back to the war of 1812, when old Captain Roberts 
was living in West Virginia with his beautiful and 
wayward daughter, who was the cause of more trouble 
in that and other families than was ever heard of in 
any history outside these domains. She was most 
beautiful, she was so, and I can tell ye all here now 
that I never saw her equal in cool, fascinating ways, 
and in looks that 'ud make some o' the young men 
hereabouts follow to where the "willows are weepin' 
night and day," as Pete Cartwright has it. She had 
what a man down in my section calls the 'wildcat 
eye,' that is, they were glassy and fiery one minute, 
and dove-like an' winnin' the next. She had that 
pride and independence that was natural to the women- 
folk of her section. I saw her at times when she was 
most too haughty and overbearin' for her folks to 
abide with, an' then again I've seen her as skittish and 



156 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

troublin' as a kitten witli a mouse, and just as sassy 
as a chipmunk in April. It was my belief then, an' 
it is now, that Yicky Eoberts was plumb turned in her 
head by bein' flattered an' spoiled, she bein' the only 
child ; and it looked like a foreordination of events as 
far as she was concerned. 

" Now, Yicky Eoberts was courted by two young 
men, cousins. Hank Cutler and Jack Stone. And 
that, geutlemen, meant trouble from the word Go ; an' 
what made things worse was the singular disposition 
of Stone, who was a young man of few words, an' 
somewhat quiet, an' given to serious thinking, with a 
clear head, an' with more brains than some folks would 
be willing to allow. Against Stone come in Hank 
Cutler, with a cunnin' disposition an' considerably 
given to underhand dealings, with a head as muddled 
an' wayward as could be. 

" The rivalry of these two was like the meetin' of 
the clear waters of the Ohio with the muddy Missis- 
sippi. Cutler was as reckless as any young man could 
be in those days, with no conscience to speak of, and 
to get the gal he was willing to sell his soul an' take 
the consequences. He was tall and right smart in his 
dress, an' calculated to win over any gal by his looks 
an' manners, bein' of that particular stamp that catches 
some women, as spiders catch flies, before they know 
it. Anyhow, Cutler and Stone were in for it from 
the start, an' no time was lost either way. 

" When Vicky Eoberts saw how things were opening 
up she kind o' hesitated, not knowingwhich to choose, 
an' bein' more an' more flattered in her feelings she 
kept both on 'em jumpin' on the string, not stopping 
to think of the steel trap she was settin' for herself, 



PIONEER OF THE SANGAMON COUNTRY 157 

an' perhaps noways caring, either. Some said she 
preferred Hank Cutler, others again were dead sure 
she was in love with Jack Stone. But when old man 
Cutler up an' died Hank was obliged to cross the Elue 
Eidge on important business in the Old Dominion, and 
during his absence the real trouble began. Eefore he 
left Vicky Koberts made him believe, or he made 
himself believe, that she was all right on his side, but 
as soon as he was out of sight Stone took advantage 
of the occasion by paying more and more attention to 
Vicky Roberts. Her parents made no objection ; in 
fact, they favoured Stone, he being the most gentle- 
manly of the two and the most steady, an' it didn't 
take more'n a few weeks after Hank Cutler's depar- 
ture to make Vicky Roberts forget him and consent to 
marry Jack Stone. 

"But there was no minister to perform the ceremony. 
What was to be done ? Time was most precious, 
seeing that Cutler might arrive home before the 
Methodist minister, then on his circuit, would come 
that way. They decided to send for a justice of the 
peace, named Williams, to unite them in marriage. 
Now, Williams had been out of office for a good while, 
but everyone declared him fully qualified to perform 
the ceremony an' make it valid in the eyes of the law. 
An' so Jack Stone an' Vicky Roberts were married in 
all haste to repent in all leisure; and scarcely had 
they become man and wife than here comes home 
Hank Cutler ! 

" Cutler didn't let on he was anyways afflicted by 
what had happened. He attended the reception an' 
congratulated the bride an' appeared cool an' took 
things easy like ; but his head was filled with sinister 



158 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

plans. He waited his chance to see Vicky when the 
people were leaving. The opportunity came, an' he 
says to her : ' Look here, Vicky, do you know your 
marriage isn't legal ? You ain't married according to 
law.' 

" Vicky Stone blushed and at the same time looked 
Hank Cutler straight in the eye. Then, after a little, 
she said : ' Hank, how do you know I ain't ? ' 

" ' I know you ain't,' says he, ' that justice o' the 
peace is disqualified by law ; his commission has 
run out. You ain't married, Vicky, an' if you 
have children they'll be bastards, an' Jack Stone 
knows it ! ' 

" She sat down in a chair right where she was 
standin' all flustered and ashamed like, but Cutler 
kept on : ' You think it all over, an' when you want 
to free yourself I'll be ready.' 

" When Stone returned to the house his wife asked 
him plump an' straight : ' Jack Stone, are you dead 
sure we're married according to law ? ' But after he 
had explained matters an' put the seal of certainty on 
the facts she kept silent, appearing sort o' strange an' 
gloomy, an' attendin' to her duties without saying 
much to anyone. And right here comes one of those 
queer dealin's that, as Pete Cartwright says, gives the 
devil his chance, and this is how it happened : At the 
very time that Cutler come back from the Old Dominion 
the Governor of Virginia had issued a proclamation 
about the war that had just broke out between Great 
Britain and the United States. There was a loud call 
for volunteers ; now was the time for the young men 
to show their mettle. There was sharp rivalry as to 
who would show the most daring, and in the midst of 



PIONEER OF THE SANGAMON COUNTRY 159 

the boasting and confusion some folks lost their heads, 
and one o' them was Stone. 

" Cutler had already become a soldier, and for no 
other reason than to lay a trap for Stone. Ilank 
Cutler never looked so dashing as he did on the day 
he joined the army. He walked about bragging of 
the things he intended to do in the war and casting 
odium on the young men who feared for their skins 
and stayed at home ; and meeting Stone on the street 
where there was a crowd gathered talking about the 
war Cutler said to the people : ' I'll be hanged if I 
don't fight for my country first and get married after'; 
and then he declared that a young man who was tied 
to a young gal's apron-strings warn't worth his rations 
nohow, and more of the same kind. He strutted about 
like a peacock and making about as much noise, until 
Jack Stone hardly knew whether he was standing 
on his head or on his heels, and well nigh dis- 
tracted, knowing as he did that Cutler was mighty 
favoured in the eyes of Yicky Koberts before her 
marriage. 

" At last Stone could stand it no longer. He signed 
his name as a volunteer for six months. That same 
evening there was a dispute between Stone an' his 
wife. She demanded to know how he could bring 
himself to join the army only a few days after their 
marriage. She wanted to know how she would now 
look in the eyes of the world, an' she told him she 
might better be a widow. And not only that, but she 
took it into her head that Stone had never loved her 
an' was now enrolling himself as a volunteer to escape 
the responsibility of the marriage relation. During 
this particular time Hank Cutler had put in his best 



160 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

licks to help on the rupture. He had spoken to 
Stone's wife just long enough to put a bumble bee in 
her bonnet that would keep on buzzin' day an' night, 
without rest. The more Jack Stone tried to explain 
his actions the more his wife resented his explana- 
tions. When he spoke of fighting for his country- 
she looked suspicious, an' every time he spoke of 
returning from the war in a few months her face 
grew more set an' distrustful, nor would she speak 
to him any more. 

"All this time Cutler and Stone were conferring 
together on matters concerning the war, Stone little 
suspecting the deep designs of his rival and enemy. 
One afternoon, towards the last of the summer, as the 
sun was setting behind the old Virginia hills, an' the 
birds flying low through the underbrush, an' all Nature 
drowsing in the peaceful calm, an' the old trees castin' 
their shadows along the descendin' slopes, Vicky Stone 
met Hank Cutler a mile from her house, the meeting 
lasting about twenty minutes. There was where 
Cutler worked the mischief-world-without-end, an' 
there was where she made up her mind not to let the 
parson perform a legal ceremony of marriage when he 
returned, as he was about to do in a few days. 

" When she got back to the house there was some 
talk of the parson's arrival, but she refused to entertain 
the idea of a second marriage now, an', besides, Stone 
himself didn't think it necessary, so the matter ended. 

'' The whole country was up in arms. The Indians 
had joined the British. Cutler and Stone belonged to 
a company of spies in the army, commanded by 
General Harrison, in the West, and in the discharge 
of their duty as spies they enjoyed the privilege of 



PIONEER OF THE SANGAMON COUNTRY 161 

wandering about pretty freely ; an' more than this, 
General Harrison appointed Cutler to seek out the 
whereabouts o' General Hopkins, who was on his way 
north from Kentucky. Cutler was only too anxious 
for an occasion such as this, an' some folks say he 
asked for the job. Anyhow, he succeeded in finding 
General Hopkins an' transacting the business in hand, 
but he never returned to the camp of General Harri- 
son ; neither was he seen in any other camp of the 
army. At the time they were expecting his return to 
Harrison's army in the north-west Cutler was making 
tracks for home. By day he was exerting his wits to 
avoid meetin' soldiers, by night he was put to it to 
steer clear of Indians. 

" It was a long an' dangerous journey, an' it meant 
hidin' a good part o' the time, sleepin' out in all sorts 
o' weather ; and the hardships he endured proved his 
frenzy for Vicky Eoberts, now Stone's legitimate wife. 
In the army he was given up for dead, being killed 
by Indians on his way back to camp, as everyone 
supposed. 

" But Hank Cutler was never so 'live and in fightin' 
trim. His war experiences had done nothing else 
than whet his appetite for dare-devil scrapes and still 
more adventure, and I must allow things were all 
on his side so far. The devil always wins the first 
stakes. 

" But where was Jack Stone all this time ? Yes, 
sir, ye may well ask that. He was with the army 
hundreds o' miles away, an' when Harrison took it 
into his head to discharge Stone an' other volunteers 
before the close o' the war he, too, made tracks for 
home. 

V.«. M 



162 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

" It was one o' those beautiful melting days in 
Indian summer, when heaven meets earth an' settles 
right down over everything, minglin' all things in 
Nature an' human nature in one bond of harmony, as 
it were, an' makin' folks feel as if it was a mighty good 
thing to be livin' an' breathin', to say nothing about 
love, which is more in most cases than anything else 
a man can think of — it was on such a day at high 
noon that Jack Stone come steppin' along as lithe as 
could be up the slope leadin' to his house, an' walking 
straight to the door opened it an' stepped in. Yicky 
Stone was nowhere to be seen. He thought he heard 
footsteps overhead, an' called out ; she would be down 
directly ; perhaps she was fixin' on some nice ribbons 
an' things to receive him in. Growing impatient, he 
passed up the narrow stairway. The room was vacant. 
He stood musing for a minute, then came downstairs 
again. The whole place had a deserted look. He 
huiTied to consult with Captain Eoberts, but the 
Captain looked like one in mourning. 

" ' I'm looking for my wife,' he says to the 
Captain. 

" ' An' I've been looking for my daughter for some 
time,' was the answer. 

" The two men stood an' stared at each other. Then 
Stone says : ' How long has she been gone an' who 
did she leave with ? ' 

" ' About a mouth, but I know nothing about her 
going. All I can tell ye is that she has left here an' 
left for good.' 

" Stone's wife had gone away ; no soul in the place 
knew where to. The neighbours did their best to 
pacify him, but nothing did any good. He walked 



PIONEER OF THE SANGAMON COUNTRY 163 

about like a man that had been dazed, not knowing 
what to do. He was seen to go back into his 
empty house, where he stayed for some time ; then he 
walked out as a man would walk who had taken a 
drop too much. He began to load his rifle, an' 
after that he lit out down the hill an' across the valley. 
He hadn't been gone many minutes when his house 
began to blaze and before he had got across the 
creek it fell in a heap o' ruins. He had set it afire 
himself. 

" Years passed. The war with Great Britain was 
over ; the wars with the Indians were over, but where 
was Hank Cutler ? Wal, I'm comin' to it as fast as 
ever I can ; but I reckon it took some time for him to 
play his cards after the deal was made, an' without 
discountin' nothing it'll take some time to imravel the 
yarn plumb to the last skein. 

" Cutler had made arrangements to meet Vicky 
Stone after sundown not far from her house. You 
see he got there safe an' sound, and you see how Jack 
Stone come back an' found his wife gone ; and now in 
your mind's eye, if you'll just think steady enough 
about it, you can see Hank Cutler an' Vicky Stone 
floatin' down the Ohio on a raft they found tied to the 
bank at the point where they struck the river. The 
current bein' rapid they got to Cincinnati without too 
much trouble, and there they stayed till their first 
child was born, when their wanderin's began in good 
earnest. 

" There's where I saw them about six months after 
their arrival. It seemed like I never set eyes on a 
young woman with so much colour in her cheeks an' 
such a sparkle in her eye, an' there was a look of 

M 2 



164 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

pride an' defiance in her face that would make a man 
halt and think twice before takin' liberties with such 
a proud character. But Cutler, though mighty hand- 
some, and bent on leadin' a life of independence far 
removed from his old home in Virginia, began to show 
traces of care an' dissipation. She looked as if she 
feared nothin' on earth ; he looked worried at times, 
and eyed every stranger that came his way, fearin' to 
enter into conversation. 

'' Then one day they left for parts unknown. Her 
beauty had caused a regular sensation in that section, 
an' it set tongues a-waggin' 'bout who she could be. 
An' it must be said that there was somethin' in the 
looks, dress, an' bearin' o' Cutler that interested 
more'n one woman thereabouts, so that both attracted 
attention wherever they were seen. 

" But Cutler was conscious of danger. He wanted 
to get where the settlers were few an' far between. 
On his second move he made for Indiana, but didn't 
stop long on that halt. He soon started on the third 
journey, farther west, an' only stopped when he got 
to the Wabash, thinkin' the place lonely enough to 
escape; but after stayin' here several years he got 
scared, an' suddenly pullin' up stakes, he hurried on 
with all speed to the rich an' wonderful Sangamon 
country, which, at that time, was a real paradise of 
meadow-prairie, woods an' wild flowers, where whole 
armies might hide in the tall grass in certain sections, 
an' all the robbers on the face of the earth could find 
both food an' shelter with the least trouble an' 
expense ; for the land was full o' wild game, an' the 
groves an' thickets were like so many ready-made 
habitations. You see, in those days, each settler that 



PIONEER OF THE SANGAMON COUNTRY 165 

pulled up stakes over in Indiana to come out here in 
Illinois had to follow his nose." 

" An' the whisky in them days did put a red light 
on some noses," remarked Socrates. 

" It did so," continued the lawyer, '* but Hank 
Cutler was too young to be affected that way. The 
settlers that came to these regions 'long about 1819 
or '20 wandered on pretty much by instinct, an' I've 
known cases where they gave the lead to the horses 
an' let the reins dangle." 

*' A blind boss or a yaller dog — anythin' thet'll 
walk b(if ore a two-legged creetur'," interrupted Socrates 
again. 

" Wal, they just took a westerly direction an' let 
things slide, an' some of 'em struck it rich while 
others struck it poor by halting before they come to 
the right place. Now Cutler never halted till he 
struck it right. He had got clean away from civilisa- 
tion. He was the very first pioneer in this section of 
the Sangamon country. In the covered wagon that 
moved slowly into the peaceful an' lonely haven of 
rest, much as a sailing boat would drift with a sluggish 
current, there came, besides Cutler an' his erring 
victim, two little children — one, a baby bom in the 
wagon after they had set out from the valley o' the 
Wabash, the other born the year before. The child 
born in Cincinnati had died some time ago. It was 
now plainly visible that Vicky Stone's beauty was 
doorped. Her eyes were growing heavy, her com- 
plexion was fading, her whole face was taking on an 
expression of worry an' care. For her the beautiful 
rolling prairies an' the rich bottoms of the Illinois 
liiver was not a paradise but a valley o' shadows, an' 



166 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

as for Cutler, lie was sufferin' from hard drinking an 
a scared remorseful conscience, — an' yet it ain't hardly 
likely that Cutler had feelin's enough for remorse. 
What he did feel was the presence near by of a batch 
o' squatters that came into the country a little after 
he got there, an' they had drove stakes not more'n 
two miles off. 

" It was Cutler's habit to keep a good look-out after 
sunset, an' as he scarcely slept at night this come easy 
enough, but the life of excitement an' suspense, with 
every shadow turned into a phantom, was wearin' him 
out. He looked almost middle-aged now, an' his face 
showed lines of fatigue ; his eyes had lost that look of 
darin' an' confidence that made him a favourite with 
the gals back East. He had got about as far as his 
tether would allow, an' he began to feel the pull in 
dead earnest. An' now, worse than all, no sooner had 
he got settled in the most secluded an' lovely spot he 
could find, in a place now called Cutler's Grove, an' 
not very far from this house neither, than a reg'lar 
wave of immigration set in from Kentucky an' Indiana. 
The newspapers of the cities on the Upper Ohio, an' of 
Saint Louis, began to give accounts of the rich lands 
of the Sangamon country, an'' Cutler found himself 
once more surrounded by settlers, scattered here an' 
there, an' among them others, like himself, ready for 
any villainy. 

" Cutler was on the point of moving once more, 
but this time his victim objected, saying she was worn 
out with anxiety an' the rough life he had led her. 

" Down towards the river, about three miles away, 
some new arrivals from Missouri had opened a small 
store, where whisky was sold an' freely imbibed. It 



PIONEER OF THE SANGAMON COUNTRY 167 

was kept by outlaws an' frequented by men like 
Hank Cutler ; and Cutler himself made this place 
the headquarters for adventures an' expeditions of a 
daring an' desperate nature. He now left home for 
days together, an' Vicky Stone had little if any means o' 
findin' out where he was or what he was doing. Cutler 
was by nature more of a leader than the desperadoes 
who kept this store, an' that is why he naturally took 
the lead in most of the robberies committed thereabouts. 

" Vicky Stone, left by herself for days an' nights, 
with only dogs an' two little children for companions, 
had plenty of time for sorrow an' weepin' ; but it 
looked to me then, an' it looks to me now, as if Provi- 
dence was kind of settin' of him up right in this new 
garden of Eden to tempt him in the right way, for 
there was no forbidden apples here in those days " 

"Speakin' o' apples," interrupted Socrates, with his 
round face all aglow, "speakin' o' apples, allers make me 
think of ole Ezry Sparr, thet use ter live down thar 
near Crow's Nest, jest afore ye come te the bend in the 
river. He hed a real cute way o' treatin' the parsons 
en circuit-riders thet come along thar. He had a 
small apple orchard; 'bout the fust orchard ever 
planted in these parts, I reckon, en his cider war 
sweet when the crop war good, but hard en stunuin' 
when apples war skase ; en one season when thar 
warn't much of a crop te speak of along come Azariah 
James and preacher Dew a-hossback. 

"They war a-makin' fer the Conference over te 
Mount Carmel, en bein' ez thirsty ez fishes out o' 
water they called fer all the cider they could drink, 
which war consid'able, the day bein' hot en the roads 
dusty. Old Ezry Sparr stepped round ez perlite ez 



168 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

could be, but 'peared like he war extry long in f etchin' 
the cider, en when it war sot on the table it war gone 
afore anyone hed time te tell whether it war hard, er 
whether it war saft, er whether it war calc'lated te 
put 'em in the weavin' way ez the say in' is. 

" Arter a while, preacher Dew sez : ' Wal, Brother 
James, what d'ye think o' thet thar cider ? ' 

" ' Thet's jes' what I war a-goin' to ask you,' he 
sez, ' it beats all I ever see.' 

" ' 'Tain't the seein' of it,' sez t'other, 'we didn't 
take no time ; en besides, 'tain't allers wisdom te 
fumble 'bout the mouth of a gift boss, seein' ez Ezry 
Sparr don't never charge preachers fer what they drink.' 

" ' I 'low ye're right,' sez preacher James, ' but I 
reckon it's time te ride on ; it takes a heap of ridin' 
to settle real hard cider,' 

"Preacher Dew asked ole Span- te p'int out the 
way te Crow's Nest, ez they war aimin' te reach the 
Conference afore nightfall.' 

" ' Straight on,' sez Sparr ; ' but on yer way ye'U 
hev te pass through what the circuit-riders call the 
land o' Nod, en ye'll strike it over yander whar ye 
see thet p'int o' timber.' 

" ' The land o' Nod ? ' sez Brother Dew. ' I ain't 
never heerd o' no sech a place in this section.' 

"'Very likely ye never did,' rej'ined ole Sparr; 
' but I'll be bound ye'll know it when ye git thar.' 

" ' Be thar a sign-post ? ' 

" ' Thar ain't no need o' one. Jes' keep yer eye 
on this man,' he sez, puttin' his hand on preacher 
James's shoulder, en sorter smilin', 'he looks like 
he'll do fer a sign-post, at least ez fur ez ye'll go 
this time.' 



PIONEER OF THE SANGAMON COUNTRY 169 

" They rode off at a good canter, but they hcdn't 
been out long afore preacher James sez : ' Looky 
here, Brother Dew, don't ye think we'd better walk 
our bosses? 'Pears like thet cider's workin' up, en 
it looks like it'll pop the cork if we keep on joggin' 
like this.' 

" ' Wal,' sez t'other, ' I'm mighty anxious te reach 
that p'int o' timber en find out jes' what ole man Sparr 
did mean by the land o' Nod.' 

" They rode on, en ez they come te the woods 
preacher Dew reined up, en lookin' at Azariah James 
he see him nod his head, then straighten up, en nod 
ag'in ; then brother Dew hollered out : ' I'll be 
hanged ef I ain't jes' seen the sign-post ! Brother 
James, we'll git down right here en sleep off thet 
stunnin' liquor ole Sparr tilled us up on.' 

" They hitched up en slept in the woods all night, 
en when they got te the Conference preacher Dew 
took fer his tex' : ' Tetch not, taste not, handle not, 
'ceptin' when ye're dead sure o' yer apples.' " 

A hearty laugh followed, after which the lawyer 
continued his story. 



CHAPTEE XIY 

THE EEGULATORS 

" Wal, as I was saying, Cutler was hard at work 
playing out his last deal. One fall he an' the three 
brothers who kept the whisky-store made it up 
between them to rob a store down where Springfield 
stands to-day. It had been opened by a man from 
Kentucky who had come up the river by way of Saint 
Louis, an' for that day an' time his goods were as 
tempting as anything could be, an' what he had 
appeared to most o' the settlers like a banquet o' good 
things, although it was only sugar, coffee, tobacco 
an' such like he kept. 

" Cutler and his companions made a survey of the 
the land, decided on a route, waited for a night when 
there was no moon, and then set out on the expedition 
of plunder. Two of the brothers rode horseback, 
while the third drove a fast team with Hank Cutler. 
After riskin' their lives they managed to slip away, 
having robbed the store of everything they could 
carry ; but coming back home they lost their way in 
the dark an' had to pass by the house of a man who 
recognised them. 

" Now, when the three brothers were arrested 
Cutler was not suspected. This gave him a chance 
to bluff the justice o' the peace and the whole com- 
munity by passing himself off as a lawyer, which was 
easy, seeing that the justice o' the peace knew as much 



THE REGULATORS 171 

of the law as a sheep knows o' the ways o' panthers 
an' wolves. The stolen things were hid away in 
Cutler's Grove, but wlien the trial come on more'n one 
of us had cause to scratch our head an' wonder what 
would become of us. Ye see, Cutler had been to 
college in Virginia an' could spout enough Latin to 
make the justice o' the peace ashamed of his ignorance, 
an' so he sat there not knowin' what he was about or 
what proceedin's to take in the matter ; and I don't 
reckon there ever was a game played like it in this 
country before nor since. It was just like little 
children playin' at law. But Cutler had directed the 
three brothers just what to say an' how to act ; an' 
when the examination took place everyone came who 
could get there. It was live or die for all of us in 
those days. If the robbers got clear the danger for 
all good citizens would be greater than ever. Excite- 
ment ran high, an' every man brought his rifle an' a 
dii'k. The place was so crowded that I had to edge 
myself in as best I could till I got to where I 
could see the prisoners fair an' square. There must 
have been as many dogs in the crowd as there was 
people, an' the snapping an' snarling more than once 
drowned the mealy voice of the justice, who looked 
scared and fearsome. But the settlers kept their 
mouths shut, an' looked an' listened as they would 
had it been the Day of Judgment itself. 

'' The three brothers were brought in under guard, 
an' the examination commenced. 

" ' Jim Ferris,' says the justice, ' I want to know if 
you can tell us where you were on the night that store 
was robbed.' 

" He was addressing the oldest of the brothers, who 



172 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

stood with his hands in his pockets looking for all the 
world like a cross between a weasel an' a human 
devil. 

" 'Where was I?' he answered, in a loud piercing 
voice that made the poor justice flinch in his seat ; 
' where was I ? Where folks that's worked hard 
all day feel like they want to be — in bed, asleep.' 

" ' In your own house ? ' 

" ' Where else d'ye reckon I'd be ? ' 

'' ' Joe Ferris,' he says, addressing the next brother, 
' can ye tell this Court were ye were on the night o' 
the robbery ? ' 

" ' With my brothers, at home in my own house.' 

" The justice o' the peace looked like he was trem- 
bling in his boots, an' his voice was descendin' more 
an' more to a scared whisper. An' Cutler, seeing 
how the land lay, sprang forward about the time the 
third brother's turn came, an' lookin' the justice in the 
eye with one o' them mesmerising glances of his, he 
just toppled him over for good an' all by declaring off- 
hand, an' with a mighty flourish of spunk, that he 
was with the brothers on that night till late, an' it 
would be more than human power for any man to leave 
home at midnight, go so far, an' get home again by 
morning. 

" I was standing right where I could see most of 
the settlers' faces, an' I was watching to see just 
how they were taking the queer an' unheard-of 
proceedin's. There was ole man Sawyer and his 
two big six-footer sons that had just moved up from 
Tennessee ; his big square face was like a bear trap 
that had closed up by havin' a chipmunk run over 
it, an' his mouth fixed so tight that it looked like 



THE REGULATORS 178 

a crowbar couldn't get between it. As for his 
eyes, they were for all the world just like the eyes 
of a chiny cat, fixed an' starin' ; an' seein' him 
an' the others like Andy Scott and Jim Biswell just 
as set an' wonder-struck, I couldn't take my eyes 
off 'em. 

" The justice, all flustered an' broke up by Cutler's 
bold looks and confident speech, up and says : ' The 
prisoners are now discharged ! ' 

" Ye could have heard a butterfly come in the room! 
Old Sawyer's jaw dropped clean open, showin' his 
long teeth, an' his tongue was halfway out as if he 
was catchin' his breath like. 

"At last the crowd began to move. One o' the 
Sawyer boys let his rifle fall plumb across the paws of 
a big dog layin' on the floor beside him. An awful 
howl went up, in which all the other dogs joined, an' 
'twixt the dogs, the robbers, an' the honest settlers, it 
was confusion worse confounded. 

" In the midst of the din Cutler an' the three Ferris 
brothers slipped ofi" home. 

" When the crowd was disappearing three or four, 
like ole man Sawyer an' Jim Biswell, set to work to 
confer about the best means for mutual protection. 
Sawyer proposed to form a society to rid the country 
of desperadoes, for there was a deep suspicion that 
Cutler was the ringleader, and the law, as it stood, 
was powerless. 

" There was a small meetin' held, but nothing 
important was decided on. As time wore on Cutler 
seemed to be getting the advantage of the Ferris 
brothers in business matters, for he opened out a store 
that took the shine off all the others in that section, at 



174 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

the same time keepin' in with his ole friends, the 
Ferrises. Business was so good that Hank Cutler did 
nothing but store-trading an' selling, gettin' most all 
his goods direct from Saint Louis by boat, an' his 
store soon got to be the leading meetin'-place for idle 
an' suspicious characters. 

" 'Now, it was noticed that Cutler spent considerable 
of his time visiting down by the river bottom, where 
it was rumoured that a man from the South had settled 
on bottom land. This man was possessed of more 
money in cash than any of the other settlers, for it 
seemed he had a large sum locked up an' stored away ; 
an' as there were no banks to put money in he was 
obliged to hide it as best he could right on his 
diggin's. 

" It wasn't long before Cutler was joined in his 
visits to this man by two of the Ferris brothers. The 
aim was for Cutler to have all the help he could get 
to carry out his plans for the biggest robbery yet 
undertaken in the Sangamon country. 

" During their visits to the bottom Cutler an' his 
companions informed themselves of the new settler's 
intentions. They found out that he would soon be 
making a journey to Saint Louis by boat, an' that in 
his absence he would leave in his cabin valuables to a 
considerable extent. 

" When Cutler found out all he wanted to know, 
aud more, he came home one day in hot haste an' 
prepared to sell out all he possessed except his horses 
an' a few things he had to keep for future use. The 
next day he made known the announcement of the 
sale — his cabin, an' all the contents of his store was 
for sale, except a stock of whisky which he could not 



THE REGULATORS 175 

•part with. Things were going for a mere song, as 
they say, an' you can believe me, his sudden selling 
out an' departure created a commotion among the 
settlers, an' all sorts o' rumours. While the sale w^as 
proceeding Cutler was actin' mighty strange. He 
stayed at home nights, he kept silent, an' grew more 
an' more gloomy an' sullen. Towards the last he was 
in such a hurry to sell out that he almost gave things 
away, and for miles people hurried in to get the 
unheard-of bargains that were going. 

" The honest folks heaved a sigh of relief when 
they saw these things, and looked forward to a time of 
peace after Cutler's departure. When the day of 
departm-e arrived it was noticed that two of the Ferris 
brothers went with him, an' this looked kind o' queer, 
but Cutler laughed away suspicion as he so often did 
before, and made like he was only going off on a 
pleasure excursion. 

" He set out about noon on a beautiful day in the 
early spring, and moving as fast as the horses would 
go he crossed the Illinois river, an' coming to an 
abandoned cabin on MacKee's creek towards the dusk 
of the evening, stopped there and fixed to take 
up his residence as long as it suited his intentions 
an' plans. 

" Yes, sir, you better believe the long-sufi"erin' 
settlers back on the other side o' the river received this 
news with feelin's anything but gay an' festive. Cutler 
hadn't moved more'n ten miles further west. It was 
noticed that the two Ferris boys didn't return, but 
stayed away, an' it was hoped they had lit out for 
good ; but they were busy rehearsing theii* parts an' 
getting ready for a big haul. 



176 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

" One night Cutler an' his two accomplices dressed 
themselves up as Indians, with faces painted red an' 
white, an' made for the bottom where the rich settler 
lived. The owner was away at Saint Louis, leaving 
his home in charge of his wife, his son, aged about 
eighteen, an' a young daughter. All of a sadden they 
were terrified by the visit of the robbers, who knew 
exactly where to look for the hidden valuables. There 
was no resistance offered. Cutler an' his companions 
took what they wanted, an' in five minutes decamped 
with the booty — a large sum of money, in fact all the 
rich settler possessed in cash. 

" The very next day the news was brought to the 
settlement by a messenger on horseback. There was a 
hurried secret meeting. The greatest precaution was 
necessary in order to insure success, for the oldest 
Ferris was still at his store, and every movement of 
honest folks was watched, an' everything would be 
reported to Cutler an' the others. 

" It took two or three days to get the notice of the 
meetin' circulated among those most interested. The 
messages had to be sent to an' fro by stealth in round- 
about ways, and finally the meetin' -place was fixed at 
Jim Biswell's cabin, it being surrounded mostly by 
hazel bushes, with two roads leading to the back hid 
by a thick growth o' tall saplings. 

' ' The appointment was for the early morning, as it 
was thought that Jim Ferris an' his spies would not 
be likely to be on the look-out at that time, an' when 
all had arrived the meetin' was called to order by ole 
man Sawyer, who up an' says : ' Friends, I reckon ye 
all know what we are here for. Ye've heard the 
news of the last robbery.' 



THE REGULATORS 177 

" * Yes, yes, we all know, an' we want to act,' cried 
several voices. 

" Then let's proceed to business,' said the first 
speaker. ' I propose friend Biswell here to occupy 
the chair dmin' the proceedin's.' 

'' Jim Biswell, being chosen, made them a speech. 

" ' Ye all know,' he said, ' what the Eangers were 
during the time of the Indian wars an' depredations, 
an' that they were formed for the purpose o' clearin' 
the western countries of wandering bands of evil- 
doers. But the days o' the Eangers is past, an' now 
the time is ripe for something to take the place o' 
those organised fighters on horseback. The time has 
come for each settlement to stand on its own legs. 
Friends, ye've seen how the justice let off the Ferris 
gang, an' how the law, as such, works out to favour 
the men with the greatest cunning an' the most 
reckless daring. Now, we ain't got no mounted 
Rangers to give us good law an' good deeds, an' I 
propose right here to fit out a company of Regulators 
to do our work an' rid this settlement an' the neigh- 
bourhood of all robbers an' desperadoes, an' that in 
the quickest time possible.' 

" ' Ye're right,' said ole man Sawyer, 'for the next 
thing we'll know murder will take the place o' 
robbery.' 

" ' An' we might far better be murdered,' said Jim 
Biswell, * than to have all the money we possess taken 
from us, an' nothin' left to start work on.' 

" ' Ye're right,' spoke up several voices. 

"Up to this time Andy Scott had been sitting there 
as still an' unpretending as you please, an' there was 
nothing about his looks to attract much notice, except 

V.S. N 



178 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

he had but one eye, an' the other was kind o' droopin' 
an' heavy, which gave him the appearance of a man 
who had seen considerable service an' was now set in 
his mind on taking things just as easy as the law 
would allow, an' a little easier than the Cutler gang 
were disposed to permit at that particular time. 
Wal, Andy Scott took the corn-cob pipe out of his 
mouth, spat on the floor, squared up, an' says : 
' I've been a Eanger myself, an' fit Indians an' 
chased robbers all over Indianny an' Kentucky, an' I 
b'lieve I'm good for any fightin' these here diggings 
can scare up, without wantin' to brag. I'm willin' to 
follow, or I'm willin' to lead; I don't care a shuck 
which it is — I'm ready. All I want to see is this here 
settlement cleared o' varmints like Cutler an' Ferris, 
an' the quicker the better.' 

''You better believe one-eyed Scott began to look 
like a leader, an' Jim Biswell put the question : 
' What do you reckon is the best way to go about 
dealin' with this band ? ' 

" ' Give 'em all the rope they're after,' he says. ' I 
propose to form a company o' volunteers right here an' 
now, to regulate matters an' carry out the law 
accordin' to the wishes of all honest folks in this 
section.' 

" The majority of voices were in favour of Andy 
Scott's proposition, and the chairman proceeded to ask 
for volunteers. The two Sawyer boys, Jim Biswell, 
Andy Scott, his sixteen-year-old son, myself, an' six 
others put down their names as willing to take imme- 
diate action, and the meetin' next set to work to 
elect a leader. And this was not so easy. 

'There was at the meetin' a man they called 



THE REGULATORS 179 

Major, who had been one of the most outspoken 
against the Cutler band. Someone proposed Andy- 
Scott as captain ; but Scott, fearing to take precedence 
of a man who had been an officer in the war, named 
the Major, an' this proposition was carried; a com- 
mittee was formed to arrange an' organise. The 
volunteers bound themselves by oath to carry out a 
stated an' determined line of action to rid the country 
of all evil-doers, A paper was signed by the chair- 
man, the committee, and all the volunteers. 

" There was another secret meeting ; some doubted 
the Major's capacity to lead in such an undertaking 
because he was known to be a man considerably given 
to talk. Finally things come to a head by an arrange- 
ment for all to meet at sundown the next day in a 
dense thicket near the cross-roads, and from there 
make straight for the other side o' the river to Cutler's 
house on the creek. "We arrived at the meetin' -place 
in good time, but found no Major. We waited, an' 
still our appointed captain failed to appear. We 
waited for more'n an hour, but the fact was the brave 
Major was at home having supper with his wife, but 
pretending to be too sick to come to the meetin' -place. 
The Major was scared, an' soon after he pulled up stakes 
an' left for parts unknown, bein' ashamed to face the 
people. Wal, no one could tell just what to do next. 
All the volunteers were willing an' ready to move on 
an' face the desperadoes, come what may, but there 
was no captain. While we were talking matters over 
one o' the Sawyer boys said he saw something movin' 
in the woods to the left ; we raised our rifles and stood 
waiting, but nothing more was seen or heard of a 
suspicious nature, an' we all laid it to young Sawyer's 

N 2 



180 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

imagination an' proceeded to settle who should be our 
leader. Andy Scott was chosen. But Scott was not 
a boaster, nor a man who wanted to lead in anything. 
He was an up-an'-down fighter, an' as brave as a lion, 
but only wanted to follow a good captain, an' most o' 
the volunteers were young an' inexperienced men. It 
begin to look as if the expedition to the robbers' roost 
must be abandoned for want of a leader, when out 
Jumped a man from the bushes and cried out : 
' Hold, friends ! I've heard all you've said. I 
understand you want a leader. I too have been 
robbed by the villain you're looking for. I want to 
be your captain an' assume all responsibility in this 
proceeding if you'll let me have that honour an' 
satisfaction.' 

"Andy Scott then spoke up, an' says: 'I believe 
you're the man I see down by the Ohio not more'n 
six months ago, an' you went by the name of the 
Wild Hunter ? ' 

" ' Yes,' chimed in Jim Bis well, ' I've heard o' you 
more'n once, an' it 'pears like I recognise you from 
the description they give o' your dress, your cap in 
particular, which seems to be made o' panther skin.' 

"He had a half -wild expression that made some of 
us stand back somewhat, not knowin' into what 
scrapes he might take us ; but his body was as nimble 
as a deer, an' his whole appearance was calculated to 
win over our confidence in the long run. He had on a 
buckskin hunting shirt, deerskin leggin's, an' moccas- 
sins on his feet. His step was as lithe as a panther's, 
an' it was no wonder he come so near us without makin' 
his presence actually known. He carried a long knife, 
an' his rifle was one of the finest anywhere to be seen. 



THE REGULATORS 181 

He stood eyeing our company as cool as a cucumber, 
with his hands folded across the muzzle of his gun. 

'"You're right, friends,' ho says. 'I've been in 
the southern part of this country and I've been called 
by some the Wild Hunter, but I don't intend to settle 
for long in this section. I want to find where Cutler 
is, an' I don't care much who goes with me. If I 
knew how to get there I'd start alone. I must an' 
will find him. I've been hunting for him long 
enough. A rude fate directed me to this spot just at 
this eventful time.' 

" ' You see,' he continued,' looking at every one of 
us as if he could see plumb through us, 'I've been to 
Cutler's store, but I was three days too late. He had 
sold out an' left, an' I was now lookin' for some signs 
whereby I might reach him, as they told me he had 
halted about ten miles off.' 

" ' Are you intendin' to settle hereabouts?' asked 
Andy Scott. 

" ' My business is with Cutler, and not with any- 
one in the settlement nor with any interests in this 
section o' the country, but if you'll take me for your 
captain we'll be off without delay.' 

" There was some talk as to the risks of accepting 
a stranger, but at last Andy Scott up an' says : 
' Looky here, boys, I ain't afeared to follow no 
man, an' I reckon this here company's got as much 
spunk as I have. This stranger looks to me dead on 
the square. There ain't nothin' in names, but I'd 
like to ask the stranger his name just to have 
something to call him by.' 

" ' Wal,' says the hunter, with a desperate look, 
' since ye seem willing to call me your leader, you can 



182 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

allude to me as Captain Stone. I've been nine years 
in search of Hank Cutler ! ' 

"It was now dark, an' we had miles of trackless 
wilderness to wander through. When we came to 
a cleariDg we made rapid progress, but when we 
came to water an' thick woods we got lost more'n 
once. 

" Stone stepped along as light as a young buck. 
We talked in whispers. There seemed to be some 
guidin' power assisting Stone to sense out the way 
straight an' clear in spite of almost insurmountable 
obstacles. He took us knee-deep through water, he 
tore through underbrush an' thicket, he almost ran in 
places where it was level an' the ground clear. But 
when it came to the river we halted. It began to 
look as if we could never get across, and we lost 
precious time in making several unsuccessful attempts 
at crossing. It seemed just like a dream when we 
found ourselves on the other side making dead-sure 
tracks for MacKee's creek, which we struck about 
half -past eleven. Here we took a turn, an' going 
straight north for about half-an-hour all at once we 
come dead in sight o' Cutler's cabin. There it stood, 
in the clearing, as lonely an' as solemn as a horned 
owl on a forsaken barn-door. An' it was midnight at 
that ! I can tell ye it gave me shivers down my back 
when I saw it. I've been all over this country as far 
as settlers have got, an' I've seen as much as most, 
but I hadn't ever seen or felt anything to equal the 
looks o' that cabin standing there in the clearing. It 
was unearthly. There was just light enough to see 
some things pretty plain, though the moon was 
droppin' below the trees behind the cabin, an' after 



THE REGULATORS 183 

moving' a little closer Andy Scott allowed lie could 
make out there was smoke coming from the chimney. 

'''But they're asleep,' says Jim Biswell, 'there 
ain't no light in the house.' 

" ' It don't make no difference,' he replied; ' light 
or no light we've got to go slow, for I 'am dead 
certain they ain't more'n had time to go to bed.' 

" Scarcely had he uttered the words, when the door 
opened and a blazing light streamed out as far as the 
wood line. A little more and the light would have 
struck us where we stood, but, as luck would have it, 
we were standing right where we could see clear 
across the room, from the open door plumb to the 
chimney -place. In another second we could see 
someone moving about. Then we could see two ; and 
just as we were begginnin' to wonder how many there 
were inside, the whole band became visible walkin' 
about. 

" ' "Whoop-ee ! ' whispered Biswell, ' they're all 
there.' 

" We stood an' counted 'em — Cutler, Jim Ferris, 
and his two brothers. They were going an' coming 
from the fireplace, burning up papers an' other stuff 
that they took from the last house they robbed. They 
were destroying the evidence. 

" ' Let's make for 'em ! ' 

"Andy Scott spoke so loud, it seemed like the 
robbers must hear him an' get a start on us. 

" Captain Stone waved his hand. 

" ' Wait an' watch here,' he said, ' till I go forward 
a little closer.' 

" Another big blaze rose up in the chimney ; we 
could plainly see the men sorting, counting, an' 



184 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

dividing piles of coin. A table stood at one side, 
an' on it was a whisky bottle. When the counting 
an' dividing was over, Cutler poured out for all to 
drink, an' we could hear the words : 

" ' Fill up, boys, we can all aflford it after the last 
haul ! ' 

" Captain Stone had now got within a few yards of 
the cabin. Yes, sir, we were all mighty excited. We 
could scarcely keep from making a dash for that open 
door ; and it seemed like Stone was listening a long 
time to hear just what was bein' said, but he was only 
gone a few minutes. When he returned he gave us 
orders to follow close at his heels an' wait for the 
word of command, whatever that might be, an' we all 
set to wonderin' just what his intentions were as to 
the capturin' o' Cutler. It was clear he didn't want 
us to run up an' shoot now that we had got to the 
place an' had a dead spot on every member o' the 
band. Stone had worked out what to do. That man 
could see ahead ; he knew exactly how things would 
turn up ; an' he was the least excited of us all. 

" ' Follow me, comrades,' he said in a whisper, and 
we crept up till we were close enough to hear every 
word spoken in the cabin. 

" Cutler an' his gang were finishing off the last of 
the whisky. Cutler said : ' It's time to get some 
sleep ; we've got to be away from here by sunrise, 
for we've got the biggest ride before us we ever done. 
We've got to get clean away till we get into the 
Indian country, north-west o' here.' 

'' But Jim Ferris opened another bottle o' whisky 
an' set it on the table an' began to pour out, an' 
with that they all set round the fire with their feet 



THE REGULATORS 186 

sprawled before 'em as careless an' shiftless as ye 
ever see. 

" Stone was now right before the door. He was 
waiting for Cutler to stand up. The very minute he 
did so the captain, with eyes like a wild cat, made one 
bound inside. 

" ' Stand there till I kill ye ! ' he hollered out, his 
voice hoarse with nine years of pent-up fury. 

" Cutler stood like he was petrified. He was gapin' 
at Stone with a ghastly look when Stone sent a bullet 
through his heart. He fell in a dead heap. We made 
a rush for the Ferris gang, who were so taken aback 
an' filled with liquor that no resistance was made. An 
awful scream came from above an' down rushed Vicky 
Stone. 

" Lord a' mercy ! I can see her now, with her hair 
all loose, an' her eyes wild with despair, a-bendin' 
over the body an' makin' out to listen for signs o' life, 
an' shoutin' : ' Is he dead, is he dead ! Have you 
killed him ! ' 

" Stone stood a moment gazing at the haggard 
featm-es of the once beautiful Vicky Roberts, then 
pulled her away from the body, an' getting her over 
where the light shone plumb in his face he jerked ofi" 
his big panther cap, an' lookin' at her, asked : ' Have 
you ever seen me before ? ' 

" A terrible scream was all the answer she gave, and 
the unhappy woman fell in a swoon on the floor. 

" ' It is enough 1 ' he said. ' I reckon judgment 
has been delivered as far as we have got ' ; and with 
that he fixed to leave the cabin and was soon lost in 
the darkness. 

' We buried Cutler in the woods, and this was the 



186 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

first grave of a white man in these parts. We warned 
the Ferris brothers to quit this section, giving them 
ten days to clear out, but at the end of that time we 
went with Andy Scott as captain of the Eegulators 
to Cutler's Grove an' found the brothers still there. 
They defied us. "We burned the cabin, bound the 
three desperadoes, took 'em to the river several hours 
distant, made a rough raft o' water logs, forced the 
brothers on to it an' then pushed it out to float down 
stream with nothing but the clothes on their backs. 
We told them to return meant certain death. 

" Vicky Stone made her way back to Virginia, 
where I have always heard it said that Stone came to 
see her once a year regular an' never stayed more'n 
about ten minutes. 

" On his twelfth yearly visit he saw her die ; but 
no one ever knew what passed between them in that 
last solemn hour. 

" Jack Stone followed her to the grave, and after 
the burial took his gun and walked away, and was 
never again seen or heard of. 

" An' now, sir," our visitor concluded, '' you have 
heard the story of how the first company of Regulators 
came to be formed, an' who it was that filled the first 
grave in these western wilds." 



CHAPTER XV 

ALTON AND THE MISSISSIPPI 

My first good view of the Mississippi was from the 
bluffs behind the city of Alton. 

The praii'ie we had left was full of birds, insects, 
flowers, and animals, but now from the great river 
and the scenery all about there issued forth something 
suggestive of silence and destiny. In the west rosy 
clouds floated like scattered wings in an emerald sky, 
Avhile on the Missouri side a vii'gin forest shone in all 
the russet and gold of a western autumn. There was 
something bewildering in the never-ending flow of the 
silent waters from unknown sources in remote 
Minnesota to the far-away shores of the Gulf of 
Mexico, primitive, savage, majestic in its loneliness, 
laving banks of islands fringed with the long tresses 
of willow and wild grape, through what seemed to me 
a country of perpetual adventure and romantic change. 
With its noiseless, stealthy current, and in harmony 
with all the surroundings, there came over the mind a 
newly awakened sadness like that produced by vague, 
faint music arriving in the night. 

It was much the same with the prairie, with the 
difference that, while the wind moved the tall grass 
in wave-like undulations, here a vast space of water 
was moving in a flat, compact body without waves, in 
one fixed and endless direction, and all the hopes, 
fears, and affections of the world could vanish in this 



188 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

current towards the gulf of oblivion and leave not a 
memento behind. It was the place where philosophers 
might sit and ponder on the mystery of time and 
eternity. 

Down a few miles below, to the south, just above 
the mouth of the Missouri, there was an island covered 
with foliage, situated in mid-stream, which to me was 
a place full of mysterious charm. I used to sit gazing 
in that direction, trying to imagine how things looked 
in the wonderful meeting-place of the two great rivers. 
From the bluffs back of the town I could see for miles, 
but my favourite place to sit was just above our house, 
on the outskirts, looking south, with nothing to mar 
the wild, primitive charm of river and wood, for in 
this spot the town itself was invisible. There were 
days when I sat for hours on this bluff ; the supreme 
moments came with the passing of boats, such as the 
War Eagle J the City of Louisiana^ or the Post Boy^ 
down the Mississippi in full mid-stream. The War 
Eagle was a side-wheeler plying between St. Louis 
and Keokuk, the Fost Boy was a stern- wheeler plying 
between St. Louis, Alton, and towns on the Illinois 
Eiver. When a boat made the return journey down 
stream it put the last touch of enchantment to the 
face of the waters. It filled me with visions of distant 
worlds as it skimmed the smooth surface, the smoke 
from the chimneys leaving a long, scattered trail, the 
white steam puffing out of the 'scape pipes in rhythmic 
movement, the paddle-wheels throwing out thick 
showers as the beautiful apparition sped like a dream 
southward. Around it gathered all the illusions 
natural to ignorance and inexperience. It departed 
down the river like some vision floating away on the 



ALTON AND THE MISSISSIPPI 189 

stream of adventure into regions to me unljnown and 
unheard-of. Other boats came and went, each with a 
wild, inarticulate charm, but when I heard the long, 
low, sonorous whistle of some new and strange arrival 
the effect was such that I went about in a sort of 
ecstasy and my mouth was sealed for the rest of that 
day. 

These boat whistles were musical and suggestive 
beyond anything I have ever heard since ; they gave 
to the river region something poetic and mystical ; 
they were the voices that broke the silence and 
haunted the shores of the great valley, and the effect 
of these sounds while the boat loomed slowly up the 
Mississippi in the deepening dusk gave me a frisson 
of the supernatural. Out of what curious world was 
the boat now emerging ? From what land of adven- 
ture had it found its way thus far ? On the nights 
when I saw the fitful lights far down the black gulf 
and heard the thrilling sounds of whistle and puffing 
engines, sleep was a thing not to be thought of, and 
I lay awake thinking and wondering. 

About two miles from the town there was a place 
where boys used to band together to "go in swim- 
ming," and in this spot I took my first swimming 
lesson. One day I swam a little too far from the bank 
and found it hard work to escape from the powerful 
Mississippi current. Here at this particular spot there 
was a delicious shaded creek where we fished for 
perch and bass, and farther on, in the woods, we went 
in search of paw-paw trees and came across flying 
squirrels, strange birds, and huge flocks of wild 
pigeons. These were the woods of enchantment, by 
the borders of the Father of Waters, in the soft, warm 



190 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

autumn days when health and unadulterated joy made 
life worth living. 

Eafts and drift logs were other things that added 
romance to the Mississippi, the raft especially, it being 
an object that floated without emitting any sound. It 
looked frail and phantomesque, in keeping with the 
strange shores and virgin forests, the people handling 
it giving the impression of men arriving from some 
shipwreck on distant seas. 

Alton gave me hundreds of new sensations, but the 
town itself did not interest me so much as the boats 
at landing-time, the heaving of the big gang-plank by 
bands of black, burly negroes, the fearful oaths of the 
semi-savage mates of the genus slave-driver, beings of 
a class apart, whole continents of civilisation sepa- 
rating them and us, the bustle and hurry of passengers 
coming off or going on, the timid, languorous air of 
some of the country people with heavy carpet-bags, 
the sharp, keen faces of old-timers and professional 
gamblers, the interminable line of negro boat-hands, 
coming and going like great black bumble-bees from 
a floating hive which emitted steam and smelt of tar 
and spices, the profoundly suggestive air of cosmo- 
politanism whiffed out from the deck in bales of 
cotton, barrels of sugar, rum, molasses, tobacco, and 
sacks of grain that made the stoutest negroes stagger 
like drunken men, a fresh volley of curses smiting 
them when they appeared about to fall — all this filled 
me with amazement. I held my breath the first time 
I heard the mate hurl volley after volley of oaths at 
the perspiring negroes, hustling helter-skelter to get 
the work done within a given time. I saw the black 
man actually at work. Hundreds of times then, and 



ALTON AND THE MISSISSIPPI 191 

later, on the levee at St. Louis, I stood and watched 
these black deck-hands, and singling out someone 
weaker than the others I wondered how he would 
manage to carry his load up or down the gang-plank. 

One day a group of idle negroes were standing 
watching the departure of the War Fugle, when I 
overheard some observations touching the profession 
of a Mississippi mate. 

''Don' you set dar en talk te me 'bout dat War 
Eagle mate bein' 'tickler," said the oldest of the 
negroes. " You's too young y it ; wait till you git on 
one o' dem boats w'at goes furder down de ribber en 
den you likely see summin w'at make you 'member 
dar's a debble w'at hold a mo'gage on po' weak niggers. 
If you 'low dis mate am full o' p'izen don' you nebber 
go 'way fr'm heah ; if yo' shanks am ekil te ca'y'in' a 
load up dat gang-plank 'thout stoppin' de bref in yo' 
wind-pipe den I say keep on right whar you is. Talk 
te me 'bout cussin' ! You ain't nebber heerd none 
yit ! Dat mate down on the Belle o Me??iphis he fling 
a tail o' brimstone behin' dem niggers w'at fill de air 
wid blue sparks, dat he do, en one o' de hands he fin' 
it so hot on de gang-plank he topple ober in the ribber 
te cool hisself off ; yes, sah, he topple ober jes' te 
'scape de red-hot cussin' o' dat mate. Nudder time 
one o' de hands he 'low he gettin' de rumatiz in his 
shoulder-blade, en 'low he 'bliged te stop ca'y'in' 
barrels en passels on his back, but fust thing he know 
he fin' hisself comin' up de gang-plank on de Belle o' 
Memphis mos' doubled up under one o' dem big loads, 
en he 'gin to puff en blow, en right dar de mate he 
broke loose en he 'gin te let off steam, en he cussed 
dat tremblin' nigger till de rumatiz fin' it 'greeable 



192 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

te change fr'm de upper story te de heels, en dat ole 
nigger don' nebber feel it no mo' in de shonldah- 
j'ints. Yes, sah, you heah me ! " 

The buildings and stores of Alton and the general 
aspect of the whole place impressed me with a sense 
of age. There was about it something mature, settled, 
old-fashioned; but I discovered many years later that all 
the river towns were dreamy and sleepy except those 
in the far north. 

Here I went to the public school, but I cannot 
remember having learnt a single thing worth knowing 
except perhaps Longfellow's " Psalm of Life," which 
the whole school, boys and girls, repeated in chorus 
every morning at the opening. This was a " Yankee " 
school, the principal, Mrs. Lee, and the class-room 
teacher, Mrs. Crane, being from IN'ew England. One 
old saw out of the geography I remember to this 
day : when Mrs. Lee put the question to the brightest 
girl in the school, '' What did the Mexican soldiers 
do when they first heard the sound of the American 
cannons ? " she gave her golden curls a shake and 
bawled out the answer : '' They thought it was thunder 
and lightning and fled from them." 

Her name was Eosa Coffin ; and the name, her 
fearless manner, her smartness, and the Mexican war, 
all combined to stamp this little incident on my 
memory. 

Going to this school must have been part of the 
great sub-conscious scheme of romance in my life ; it 
had to be. It was a pleasant waste of time. What 
I enjoyed most about it was the sight of hundreds of 
swallows or martins inhabiting holes in the banks of 
the new street cut through the hill over which I had 



ALTON AND THE MISSISSIPPI 193 

to pass before I could reach the school-house. This 
was to me a never-euding charm. 

In Alton my parents were communicants at Christ 
Church Episcopal. The service was to me very curious 
and solemn, the severe face of the bearded rector, Dr. 
MacMasters, exactly fitting the rough stone walls of 
the church and the dim sepulchral atmosphere of the 
edifice within. My parents sometimes went to hear 
Dr. Taylor preach at the Presbyterian Church, and 
here I heard a new set of hymns, but to my thinking 
— and I think so still — they lacked the sentiment, 
originality, and simplicity of the old Methodist hymns 
of the prairie. The fact is this Alton and everything 
in it was a chip off the old block of New England and 
European conventions. Looking back at it now, I 
cannot see any difference between it and Boston or 
London, excepting in size and geographical situation. 

We were living in a large old house on the southern 
outskii'ts which had once been occupied by nuns who 
had a private school there. It faced the great high- 
road leading out into the prairies, and we could see 
from the windows the wagons and buggies arriving 
from the country far beyond. This residence was 
the halfway house between the Log-House and the 
one we were to occupy in St. Louis ; and it was for 
me well that it was so, for in this way the change from 
the open prairie to the cosmopolitan metropolis of 
Missouri was made gradually. 

One day our attention was attracted to the number 
of people coming down the hill in wagons and on 
horseback, and while watching them two figures that 
looked familiar approached, jogging along on steeds 
that looked tired. The men had about them something 

v.s. 



194 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

odd, almost fantastic. As they passed the house 
we recognised Azariah James and Elihu Gest. In 
less than half-an-hour along came Isaac Snedeker, 
then other familiar faces. But what did it mean ? 
All the old outspoken Abolitionists from up-country, 
with some of the Pro-Slavery people, were filing past. 
"When my father was asked what was the matter, he 
only said : " To-morrow is the great day ! " 



CHAPTER XVI 

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 

It was the 15th day of October, 1858. Crowds 
were pouring into Alton. For some days people had 
been arriving by the steam-packets from up and 
down the river, the up-boats from St. Louis, bringing 
visitors with long, black hair, goatees, and stolid. Indian- 
like faces, slave-owners and slave-dealers, from the 
human marts of Missouri and Kentucky ; the northern 
visitors arriving by boat or rail, Abolitionists and 
Republicans, with a cast of features distinctly different 
from the types coming from the south. 

They came from villages, townships, the prairies, 
from all the adjoining counties, from across the 
Mississippi, from far-away cities, from representative 
societies north and south, from congressional com- 
mittees in the east, from leading journals of all political 
parties, and from every religious denomination within 
hundreds of miles, filling the broad space in front of 
the Town Hall, eager to see and hear the now famous 
debaters — the popular Stephen A. Douglas, United 
States Senator, nicknamed the "Little Giant," and plain 
Abraham Lincoln, nicknamed the " Rail- Splitter." 

The great debate had begun on the 21st of August 
at another town, and to-day the long-discussed subject 
would be brought to a close. Douglas stood for the 
doctrine that slavery was nationalised by the Consti- 
tution, that Congress had no authority to prevent its 

o 2 



196 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

introduction in tlie new Territories like Kansas and 
Nebraska, and that the people of each State could 
alone decide whether they should be slave States or 
free. Lincoln opposed the introduction of slavery 
into the new Territories. 

On this memorable day the '' irrepressible conflict " 
predicted by Seward actually began, and it was bruited 
about that Lincoln would be mobbed or assassinated 
if he repeated here the words he used in some of his 
speeches delivered in the northern part of the State. 
From the surging sea of faces thousands of anxious 
eyes gazed upward at the group of politicians on the 
balcony like wrecked mariners scanning the horizon 
for the smallest sign of a white sail of hope. 

This final debate resembled a duel between two 
men-of-war, the pick of a great fleet, all but these 
two sunk or abandoned in other waters, facing each 
other in the open, the Little Giant hurling at his 
opponent, from his flagship of slavery, the deadliest 
missiles, Lincoln calmly waiting to sink his antagonist 
by one simple broadsider. Alton had seen nothing 
so exciting since the assassination of Lovejoy, the 
fearless Abolitionist, many years before. 

In the earlier discussions Douglas seemed to have 
the advantage. A past-master in tact and audacity, 
skilled in the art of rhetorical skirmishing, he had 
no equal on the " stump," while in the Senate he 
was feared by the most brilliant debaters for his 
ready wit and his dashing eloquence. 

Eegarded in the light of historical experience, 
reasoned about in the light of spiritual reality, and 
from the point of view that nothing can happen by 
chance, it seems as if Lincoln and Douglas were 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN 197 

i predestined to meet side by side in this discussion, and 
unless I dwell in detail on the mental and physical 
contrast the speakers presented it would be impossible 
to give an adequate idea of the startling difference in 
the two temperaments : Douglas — short, plump, and 
petulant ; Lincoln — long, gaunt, and self-possessed ; 
the one white-haired and florid, the other black-haired 
and swarthy ; the one educated and polished, the other 
unlettered and primitive. Douglas had the assurance 
of a man of authority, Lincoln had moments of deep 
mental depression, often bordering on melancholy, yet 
controlled by a fixed, and, I may say, predestined will, 
for it can no longer be doubted that without the 
marvellous blend of humour and stolid patience so con- 
spicuous in his character, Lincoln's genius would have 
turned to madness after the defeat of the Northern 
Army at Bull-Eun, and the world would have had 
something like a repetition of ISTapoleon's fate after the 
burning of Moscow. Lincoln's humour was the balance- 
pole of his genius that enabled him to cross the most 
giddy heights without losing his head. Judge Douglas 
opened the debate in a sonorous voice plainly heard 
throughout the assembly, and with a look of mingled 
defiance and confidence he marshalled his facts and 
deduced his arguments. To the vigour of his attack 
there was added the prestige of the Senate Chamber, 
and for some moments it looked as if he would carry 
the majority wdth him, a large portion of the crowd 
being Pro-Slavery men, while many others were " on 
the fence " waiting to be persuaded. 

At last, after a great oratorical effort, he brought his 
speech to a close amidst the shouts and yells of 
thousands of admirers. 



198 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

And now Abraham Lincoln, the man who, in 1830, 
undertook to split for Mrs. Nancy Miller four hundred 
rails for every yard of brown jean dyed with walnut 
bark that would be required to make him a pair of 
trousers, the flat boatman, local stump-speaker and 
country lawyer, rose from his seat, stretched his long 
bony limbs upward as if to get them into working 
order, and stood like some solitary pine ou a lonely 
summit, very tall, very dark, very gaunt, and very 
rugged, his swarthy features stamped with a sad 
serenity, and the instant he began to speak the 
ungainly mouth lost its heaviness, the half-listless 
eyes attained a wondrous power, and the people stood 
bewildered and breathless under the natural magic of 
the strangest, most original personality known to the 
English-speaking world since Eobert Burns. There 
were other very tall and dark men in the heterogeneous 
assembly, but not one who resembled the speaker. 
Every movement of his long, muscular frame denoted 
inflexible earnestness, and a something issued forth, 
elemental and mystical, that told what the man had 
been, what he was, and what he would do in the future. 
There were moments when he seemed all legs and feet, 
and again he appeared all head and neck ; yet every 
look of the deep -set eyes, every movement of the 
prominent jaw, every wave of the hard-gripping hand, 
produced an impression, and before he had spoken 
twenty minutes the conviction took possession of 
thousands that here was the prophetic man of the 
present and the political saviour of the future. Judges 
of human nature saw at a glance that a man so 
ungainly, so natural, so earnest, and so forcible, had no 
place in his mental economy for the thing called vanity. 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN 199 

Douglas had been theatrical and scholarly, but this 
tall, homely man was creating by his very looks what 
the brilliant lawyer and experienced Senator had failed 
to make people see and feel. The Little Giant had 
assumed striking attitudes, played tricks with his 
flowing white hair, mimicking the airs of authority 
with patronising allusions ; but these affectations, 
usually so effective when he addressed an audience 
alone, went for nothing when brought face to face 
with realities. Lincoln had no genius for gesture and 
no desire to produce a sensation. The failure of 
Senator Douglas to bring conviction to critical minds 
was caused by three things : a lack of logical sequence 
in argument, a lack of intuitional judgment, and a 
vanity that was caused by too much intellect and too 
little heart. Douglas had been arrogant and vehement, 
Lincoln was now logical and penetrating. The Little 
Giant was a living picture of ostentatious vanity ; 
from every feature of Lincoln's face there radiated 
the calm, inherent strength that always accompanies 
power. He relied on no props. With a pride suffi- 
cient to protect his mind and a will sufficient to defend 
his body, he di-ank water when Douglas, with all his 
wit and rhetoric, could begin or end nothing without 
stimulants. Here, then, was one man out of all the 
millions who believed in himseK, who did not consult 
with others about what to say, who never for a moment 
respected the opinion of men who preached a lie. My 
old friend, Don Piatt, in his personal impressions of 
Lincoln, whom he knew well and greatly esteemed, 
declares him to be the homeliest man he ever saw ; but 
serene confidence and seK-poise can never be ugly. 
What thrilled the people who stood before Abraham 



200 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

Lincoln on that day was the sight of a being who, in 
all his actions and habits, resembled themselves, 
gentle as he was strong, fearless as he was honest, 
who towered above them all in that psychic radiance 
that penetrates in some mysterious way every fibre of 
the hearer's consciousness. 

The enthusiasm created by Douglas was wrought 
out of smart epigram thrusts and a facile superficial 
eloquence. He was a match for the politicians born 
within the confines of his own intellectual circle : 
witty, brilliant, cunning and shallow, his weight in 
the political balance was purely materialistic ; his 
scales of justice tipped to the side of cotton, slavery 
and popular passions, while the man who faced him 
now brought to the assembly cold logic in place of wit, 
frankness in place of cunning, reasoned will and judg- 
ment in place of chicanery and sophistry. Lincoln's 
presence infused into the mixed and uncertain throng 
something spiritual and supernormal. His looks, his 
words, his voice, his attitude were like a magical essence 
dropped into the seething cauldron of politics, reacting 
against the foam, calming the surface and letting the 
people see to the bottom. It did not take him long. 

" Is it not a false statesmanship," he asked, " that 
undertakes to build up a system of policy upon the 
basis of caring nothing about the very thing that every- 
body does care the most about ? Judge Douglas may 
say he cares not whether slavery is voted up or down, 
but he must have a choice between a right thing and 
a wrong thing. He contends that whatever community 
wants slaves has a right to have them. So they have, 
if it is not a wrong ; but if it is a wrong he cannot say 
people have a right to do wrong. He says that upon 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN 201 

the score of equality slaves should be allowed to go 
into a new Territoiy like other property. This is 
strictly logical if there is no difference between it and 
other property. K it and other property are equal his 
argument is entirely logical ; but if you insist that one 
is wrong and the other right there is no use to institute 
a comparison between right and wrong." 

This was the broadsider. The great duel on the 
high seas of politics was over. The Douglas ship of 
State Sovereignty was sinking. The debate was a 
triumph that would send Lincoln to Washington as 
President in a little more than two years from that date. 

People were fascinated by the gaunt figure, in long, 
loose garments, that seemed like a "huge skeleton in 
clothes," attracted by the homely face, and mystified, 
yet proud of the fact that a simple denizen of their 
own soil should wield so much power. 

When Lincoln sat down Douglas made one last 
feeble attempt at an answer ; but Lincoln, in reply to 
a spectator who manifested some apprehension as to 
the outcome, rose, and spreading out his great arms 
at full length, like a condor about to take wing, 
exclaimed, with humorous indifference, " Oh ! let him 
go it ! " These were the last words he uttered in the 
greatest debate of the ante-helium days. 

The victor bundled up his papers and withdrew, the 
assembly shouting, " Hurrah for Abe Lincoln as next 
President ! " " Bully for old Abe ! " '' Lincoln for 
ever ! " etc., etc. Excited crowds followed him about, 
reporters caught his slightest word, and by night time 
the bar-rooms, hotels, street corners and prominent 
stores were filled with his admirers, fairly intoxicated 
with the exciting triumph of the day. 



CHAPTEE XVII 

ST. LOUIS : SOCIETY AND THE CHURCHES. 

In the late autumn of 1859 we were settled in 
St. Louis, and for me, at least, the real stress and 
movement of life began. 

Alton, as I said before, was the halfway house 
between the open prairie and the cosmopolitan city on 
the Mississippi, the great Emporium of the West, as 
it was called at that time. The weather was cold and 
gloomy, the air full of smoke, the houses old and 
dingy ; there was not the faintest suggestion of any- 
thing bright or cheerful. 

St. Louis looked old, perhaps, because its spirit was 
old ; its character was fixed, like that of a person long 
used to fixed modes and habits, conventional and con- 
tented. There was no hurrying and bustling. Things 
had always progressed slowly because of the atmo- 
sphere of southern lethargy and luxury, the ease and 
nonchalance in which so many of the ruling classes of 
St. Louis had been born and bred. Without slavery 
the city would have worn a very different aspect. 

Society in St. Louis was the outcome of two things: 
the institution of slavery, and the fact that the 
majority of the leading citizens were church-going 
Episcopalians ; yet it required all sorts and conditions 
of people to compose a cosmopolitan city, and St. 
Louis had them — thousands of free-thinking Germans 
opposed to thousands of German Catholics j thousands 



ST. LOUIS: SOCIETY AND THE CHURCHES 203 

of Irish, almost to a man faithful Catholics ; the 
descendants of old French families from Louisiana, 
mostly Catholics; Scotch and American Presby- 
terians, Unitarians, Congregationalists, but not many 
Methodists. 

In the commercial world the Yankees ruled ; but 
the old, slow, languid, proud, hospitable founders of 
St. Louis, and its social leaders, were the owners of 
slaves, and they formed the majority of the members 
of the Episcopal Church. 

In St. Louis this church was at the head of fashion, 
and social exclusiveness and the code of honour was 
that of Virginia, Maryland, Kentucky, and the Far 
South. The Europeans who emigrated to America at 
that time could not grasp the facts in relation to this 
proud, aristocratic class. It was slavery that came as 
a barrier. People from the Eastern States, as well as 
people from Europe, had white servants ; the old St. 
Louisians were never served by white people. Yet all 
went well in society as a whole. The Germans lived 
apart, principally in the northern and southern 
portions of the city ; the French kept to their old 
customs and traditions ; the Irish, as a class, lived 
apart, and in case of illness they would send for a 
doctor who was an Irishman. 

My parents became communicants of Trinity 
Episcopal Church in Washington Avenue. The 
different churches in St. Louis were to me like 
different people. I studied them as I would a rare 
flower or a curious picture. Our Sundays were 
portioned off as follows : At nine in the morning I 
went with my eldest sister to Sunday-school at 
Trinity, where she had a class of very young people, 



204 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

and where I sat under Henry Simons, a young man 
who, later, became a wealthy and influential citizen, 
and who, for all I know, may be still living. As soon 
as Simday-school was over the church began to fill for 
the morning service. At one o'clock we went home 
for a cold luncheon, my mother permitting no cooking 
to be done on Simday, after which I started again 
with my sister to attend an afternoon school at Dr. 
Anderson's Presbyterian Chui'ch, on Sixth and Locust 
Streets. My sister taught another class here, and no 
sooner was this school over than we hurried away to 
the south-western part of the town for another Sunday- 
school at a Presbyterian Chui'ch where Mr. Wood was 
the leader. 

We had only time to return to the house for another 
cold meal, when again we set out for Trinity Chm-ch, 
my parents always attending both morning and 
evening services to hear Dr. Hutchinson preach in his 
simple way, without a gesture, without an idea, 
without the faintest suggestion of any deep emotion 
or reviving influence. The old order might have gone 
on till the present for all that this good man's sermons 
did to change anyone or anything. As I remember 
it, the congregation here was typically exclusive and 
conventional ; ceremonious to the point of bowing 
with extreme deference and courtly politeness when a 
lady was being ushered to a seat in the softly-cushioned 
pews, the congregation rising and sitting down like a 
company of well- drilled soldiers, no one turning to 
look about, no sensational incident ever occurring to 
mar the unity of the whole. 

Three persons in this congregation stand out clearly 
defined to my vision, even at this distance : there was 



ST. LOUIS: SOCIETY AND THE CHURCHES 205 

a young man named William H. Thompson, the head 
of Trinity Sunday-school, who, elegant in his dress, 
manner, and figure, used to bow his beautiful wife 
into her pew as if she had been a royal princess 
attending some formal Court function ; there was a 
distinguished citizen named D. A. January, tall, stiff- 
necked, with an eagle eye and a powerful head, he, 
too, conducting a beautiful wife to her pew with a 
courtly, imperious air ; and my father, towering some 
inches above the tallest, the most imposing of them 
all, as straight as a statue, inflexible as a steel rod. 

It would seem that such an assembly were destined 
to sit Sunday after Sunday without a thrill of emotion, 
but there were moments during the service when 
music came to make up for the lack of eloquence and 
power in the preaching. Yes, we had music ! And, 
of all things in the world, operatic music. We sat 
under the spell of a paid choir ; we were charmed by 
the incomparable voice of the gifted Annie Dean, and 
there were times when the listeners must have lost 
sight of rector, pulpit, vestments, everything, in the 
delightful sensations produced by the four- gifted 
singers of this choir. Nor was this all the sensation 
Sunday had to offer. If inside the chui-ch the ear 
was charmed with lovely voices, outside, when the 
congregation was dismissed, there was a feast for the 
eyes in the lovely faces of the women, dressed in the 
latest Parisian fashions. All the chui'ches were full 
on a Sunday, and when the people streamed out, long, 
stately lines of beauty passed through the central part 
of the town ; and as we came to Pine Street we met 
the major portion of St. George's congregation coming 
up the street, and these intermingling with people 



206 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

from Christ's Church, made the streets glow with 
delicate colours and that southern type of beauty that 
made St. Louis famous long before the great War of 
Secession. 

Well do I remember one Sunday in 1860, when the 
soft airs of an early spring wandered up from the 
west, transforming the streets, the people, their looks, 
their dress, while, bathed in limpid sunshine, the 
brilliant procession from the churches filled the streets; 
and from the throng of elegant women there came 
now and again a passing whiff from the orange-groves 
of Louisiana ; and from old family prayer-books with 
golden clasps, saturated with the faint odour of old 
rose-leaves, there emanated an overpowering sense of 
the frailty of wealth, the inutility of fashion, the 
fatality of beauty, which in some mysterious manner 
came with a presentiment of languid decay and 
predestined calamity. It was a delightful promenade 
around a paradise of ease and contentment, where 
luxurious growths hid the vapours of the volcano 
under their feet. In what state of mind would aristo- 
cratic St. Louis find itself in another year ? In the 
meantime I saw and heard all I could without asking 
any questions of anyone. 

First, I had a deep desire to see the inside of that, 
to me, solemn and mystical edifice that stands on 
Ninth Street, near Washington Avenue. How many 
times I had passed its great, bulky doors without 
going in ! How calm and sleepy it stood in the hot 
summer days, how dark and gloomy when the days 
were cold and smoke hung over the town ; but my 
souvenirs of old St. Louis are of warm, genial airs, 
of long, dreamy springs and splendid autumns ; and 



ST. LOUIS: SOCIETY AND THE CHURCHES 207 

amidst the tranquil hush of all that neighbourhood 
the old Jesuit Church of St. Xavier stood like a block 
removed from the Mexico of Montezuma, plunged in 
the shadows of a mystical something which I could 
not fathom. It had an aspect all its own. Beside it 
all the other churches looked very modern and very 
simple. It faced the street without any architectural 
pretension, as if to say, " My power is within ; on my 
facade is the alphabet; within you will find the 
language, the music, the myrrh, and the mystery ! " 
It had the quality and illusion of very old lace once 
worn by grandees at great Courts, and handed doAvn 
from princes to personalities, and from personalities 
to humble priests. It was placid as a still, deep lake 
shut in by mountains, and all about it there was an 
air that seemed to say, '' Nothing matters ; the world 
is a shadow." 

The bells of St. Xavier sounded like no other bells 
in old St. Louis. I could hear them distinctly where 
we lived ; and I remember three, the far-reaching 
boom of the deeper bell carrying with it a suggestion 
of peremptory mournfulness, an impression of some- 
thing fixed and permanent in a city of fleeting 
illusions. 

At last, one day early in that fatal year of 1861, I 
was sauntering by the church when my attention was 
directed to the crowds hurrying towards its doors. 
All ages and conditions of people were represented 
in the gathering, with hardly a glimmer of fashion 
visible, the people mostly of the humbler classes, 
emigrants from the old country, still moved by the 
memories of tragic scenes, women in black, women 
with pale, pinched faces, haunted yet by the hunger 



208 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

and the horror of the Irish famine, mounting the 
church steps as if to a Calvary of devotion, all bodily 
fatigue forgotten for the moment. Such were the 
people I saw pouring through the doors of the leading 
Jesuit Church of North America. I stood and gazed 
at all these earnest, wistful faces, and half-an-hour 
must have elapsed before the impulse seized me to 
pass the threshold of the mysterious edifice and see 
and hear for myself. I slipped in, holding my breath 
for fear someone would ask me what I was doing 
there, and I was gradually pushed forward by the 
ever-increasing masses of worshippers until I stood 
in a throng nearly halfway up the left aisle. Absent 
were the tall, graceful lilies, the wandering whiffs 
from pressed rose-leaves of the ultra-refined wor- 
shippers of Trinity ; absent the conventional dignity 
and pomp of wealth, and in their places appeared the 
inviolable sorrows of deep and prolonged tribulation, 
the voiceless gestures of the weary in exile, the sombre 
hues, deepened by the pervading gloom of the massive 
church, and the dusky faces of negro worshippers 
scattered through the assembly like black beads on a 
pall of mourning. 

All the pews in the galleries and in the main body 
of the church were filled, the aisles were filled, a 
crowd stood packed under the choir. I felt as if some 
unseen presence was about to descend on the altar, 
and all at once I was startled by a peal from the organ 
and choir, and a procession of priests entered the 
chancel. 

There was a maze of soft, flickering lights and 
glistening vestments, and I thought of the contrast 
between this and the scene of the camp-meeting ; and 



ST. LOUIS : SOCIETY AND THE CHURCHES 209 

although Trinity Church was only two blocks distant, 
what a contrast between the service there and this 
ceremony at St. Xavier's ! I was in another world. 
Here were symbolical mysteries, accompanied by 
Mozart's music, with stately movements in harmony 
with the beauty of the rhythmic sounds, and faces, 
figm-es, colours, lights, glittering vestments, were 
presently merged in a cloud of vapoury incense, rising 
in puft's towards the galleries, descending slowly, 
imperceptibly, until objects in front seemed enveloped 
in a soft, transparent haze, out of which came strange 
odours of the Orient, 

A priest now mounted the steps to the pulpit, and 
all eyes were riveted there. His hair was black, his 
face very dark, his glance quick and magnetic, his 
voice and message imperative. 

Father Garache — for he was the preacher — was a man 
who had something to say and knew how to express 
himself. He seemed to eye everyone individually, 
now to the right, now to the left, now straight before 
him ; and the congregation, rapt in awe and fear, sat 
rigid under his terrible denunciations of the wicked 
and his fearful descriptions of Purgatory. 

After that, when the preacher stepped down from 
the pulpit, he looked like one returning from a long 
and weary walk through a wilderness of tombs ; and 
the music of the organ came as something magical to 
invite the half -freed spirit back to the house of flesh 
and a world of apparent realities. 

Here I looked about me at the worshippers. In a 
pew just beyond where I stood I thought I saw some- 
one whose figure seemed uncomfortably familiar. 
Could it be possible ? Yes, no — yes, it was he — the 

v.s. p 



210 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

fat, round back and neck of Mr. O'Kieff, the class- 
room teacher of Benton School, who had beaten me 
on the hand with his ruler only two days before. 

I pitied him ; for somehow he seemed even more 
contrite and miserable than the poor women in black 
sitting near him, weak and weary as they looked, and 
I said to myself, " The next time he beats me on the 
hand I shall think, ' I am happier than you, and I can 
afford it.' " 

There are persons who oppress the imagination with 
a feeling of mortality at the very time when a sense 
of immortality is supposed to dominate all the other 
feelings. How heavy and material, I thought to my- 
self, would poor O'Kieff's coffin be, and how light that 
of the frail widow in mourning sitting next him. All 
these humble women, pale, shrunken, filled with the 
fire of devotion, they looked to me more than half 
spirit ah'eady, only waiting the slightest breath to 
waft them away, soul and body, to regions of eternal 
repose ; and they gave to the church, the mass, the 
symbols, the music, the assembly, the final gesture of 
resignation when, at the supreme moment, there was a 
sound of a mystic bell in the chancel ; then a rustling 
of garments, as of innumerable wings settling down 
to rest, and the whole concourse sank to the floor 
on their knees. A tall priest stood up in front of 
the altar with the Host held high before him ; an 
immeasurable solemnity brooded over the multitude 
of bowed heads, and there was a mingling of prayers 
and pity and sorrow for dear ones left behind in the 
old country, and the heart seemed to have reached 
the nadir of worldly resignation. Again the bell 
sounded ; and there arose all over the congregation, 



ST. LOUIS: SOCIETY AND THE CHURCHES 211 

from the serried ranks of bent bodies, supplicating 
whispers, ahnost inaudible, muffled sighs that might 
have been groans but for the frail, faint voices 
emitting them, and short, quick phrases, as if the 
last scene had been reached, and the last shadow was 
passing on the dial of time, and desire had become 
futile and all action useless. 

I know not how or why, but the sight of all these 
people coming out of the church, down the steps — a 
slow, mystical stream of human hopes, emotions, and 
sorrows — affected me even more than anything I had 
seen within. As I stood outside and watched the 
descent of that throng, the sad expression on the 
faces of many of the elderly people impressed me pro- 
foundly. Attending mass at this church was indeed 
a serious matter, and the majority would return to 
humble homes where there would be souvenirs of the 
old country, and sighs, and affectionate allusions to 
the absent. 

Little did I then dream that I should one day sing 
my first solo before the public at high mass in the 
choir of St. Xavier's I 



p 2 



CHAPTER XVIII 

THE GREAT FAIR 

The memorable October of 1860 had arrived, the 
forerunner of the fateful days of November : an Octo- 
ber laden with the wild fragrance of Missouri fields, 
with the last of the flowers of wood and prairie 
scattered here and there, and ancient oaks and elms 
guarding the high roads leading into the country. 
And there were the peaceful farmhouses in the 
environs of the city, lying embedded in foliage just 
beginning to change from green into purple, and a 
something in the air that was not spring and hardly 
cool enough for autumn, yet, at the hour of noon, 
radiant with a touch of summer, when everything 
seemed wrapped for the moment in a dreamy languor, 
with the wonderful agricultural fair-grounds resem- 
bling one of Claude's most visionary landscapes. 

Two things made the fair of this autumn stand 
out detached from all the preceding ones : it was the 
last gathering under the old political and social order, 
and the Prince of Wales was coming to St. Louis with 
the special purpose of seeing the immense amphi- 
theatre and the far-famed trotting races. 

I went with my father early on the morning of the 
Prince's visit, and passing out beyond the city limits, 
where the road was black with people, came to the 
splendid expanse of sward and wood and placid waters 
where we were soon swallowed up in the dense crowd 



THE GREAT FAIR 213 

representing every trade and profession in the city and 
State : farmers, jockeys, horse-dealers, cattle-breeders, 
city merchants, officers, bishops. Southern planters, 
gamblers, river captains, pilots ; and there were digni- 
fied matrons attended by their beautiful daughters 
who represented all the leading churches of the city, 
each in charge of a booth where all sorts of fancy 
articles were sold for the benefit of the different 
charitable institutions. Such a sight could be 
witnessed nowhere else in the world. 

The Prince of Wales arrived on the grounds in a 
carriage drawn by four black horses. In the same 
carriage sat Lord Lyons, the British Ambassador, and 
the Duke of Newcastle ; and as soon as the royal 
party appeared in the crowd it was surrounded, or 
rather mobbed, by a band of shouting boys w^ho 
grasped the spokes of the wheels and helped the 
carriage along. 

The Prince looked serious and somewhat bored ; 
and no wonder. Nevertheless, he was repaid for 
having to pass through this mob when he took his 
seat in the amphitheatre and where for more than 
three hours he was entertained by a brilliant display 
of trotting matches. Nowhere else had the royal 
party witnessed such a concourse of people amidst 
such surroundings. 

While my father was greatly taken with the trotting 
matches and the fine display of fat cattle, I was 
interested in the crowd itself, the first real mob I 
had ever seen. And what a mixture of sensations — 
the struggling masses of people on the outside of 
the amphitheatre, the gawks from the backwoods, 
the heavy, listless gait of some, the quick, smart 



214 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

movements of others, the open-mouthed amazement, the 
cynical cunning of the confidence men, the vendors of 
drinks, the queer noises, the dust, the smell, the con- 
fusion of aims, the clash of interests, the voices of 
strange, wandering singers, the sound of guitars — so 
sad, so serene in this bedlam of bewildering emotions 
— the glimpse of the Chinese pagoda rising from the 
centre of the arena like a pagan symbol in a feverish 
dream, the shouts from a hundred thousand throats as 
the trotting favourites measure noses in the last round 
on the greatest day in the history of the fair ! 

Who had time to think of the approaching elections, 
the rumours of war ? 

I returned home that evening moved by the simple 
melody sung by the three young singers with their 
guitars ; and all through the years that followed I 
heard, and still hear, the words that seemed to be 
born with the music : 

** Shall we never more behold thee, 
Never hear thy gentle voice again ? 
When the Spring-time comes, gentle Annie, 
And the wild flowers are scattered o'er the plain." 

A few weeks later the fair was forgotten in the 
political excitement of the hour. Election day was 
at hand. A new President was to be chosen. 



CHAPTER XIX 

THE planters' HOUSE 

The Planters' House ! What did it not represent 
in the history of the Far West in the early days I To 
me it was St. Louis itself. This famous hotel typified 
life on the Mississippi, life on the prairies, life in the 
cotton-fields, life in the cosmopolitan city. It stood 
for wealth, fashion, adventure, ease, romance — all the 
dreams of the new life of the Great West. It was the one 
fixed point where people met to gossip, discuss politics, 
and talk business. It was the universal rendezvous 
for the Mississippi Valley, Here the North met the 
South, the East met the West. It looked like nothing 
else in the hotel world, but it always seemed to me it 
was intended more for pilots, river-captains, romantic 
explorers, far-seeing speculators, and daring gamblers. 

It was here the goatee type was seen in all its 
perfection. On some of the chins the tufts of hard, 
pointed hair gave a corkscrew look to the dark faces, 
which somehow harmonised well with the eternal 
quaffing of mint -juleps, sherry-cobblers, and gin cock- 
tails. 

An hour spent in the Planters' House just before 
the great election was an experience never to be 
forgotten. All who did not want to shoot or be shot 
steered a clear course in some other direction, for 
here, in the bar and lobbies, were the true "fire- 
eaters " to be met, and while some had already killed 
their man, others were looking for a man to kill. 



216 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

The fire-eaters were of two kinds : those who said 
little but did much, and those who drank much, talked 
much, and brandished pistols freely. Besides these 
there was an independent third party, namely, the 
listeners. Those were the wise, silent ones. They 
were, perhaps, the most interesting because they 
were amusing. The wise, silent listener would be 
smoking a big El Sol cigar, which gave him some- 
thing to "chaw" on; and during the fearful oaths 
and invectives poured forth by the fire-eater the 
unfortunate victim would find his huge cigar not 
only smoked but " chawed " down to the very stump. 
Thus, without knowing it, he would be chewing and 
smoking at the same time. How innocent and bland 
he sometimes appeared while in the clutches of a 
down-river bowie-knife man. The fire-eater could 
hardly be mistaken for any other type. It was the 
keen, glossy eye of a snake under strong, dark eye- 
brows, sometimes thick and shaggy, sometimes thin 
and arched ; and if the latter, the whole aspect of the 
face was fashioned in harmony with the clear-cut eye- 
brow, penetrating as a black steel point, above a 
piercing black eye. A pair of such eyes, once fixed 
on a lounger bent on keeping the peace, and his case 
was settled. But the silent listener at once took 
refuge behind a vocabulary of stock phrases. After a 
few drinks the political desperado would feel himself 
beginning to " b'ile over," and looked about him for 
someone to blow ofi steam on. There would be the 
man of peace at the bar who feels that one drink is 
quite enough and wishes to take a seat in an arm-chair 
or lean against the wall of the bar-room, take it easy, 
and just look and listen ; but a fire-eater, just in from 



THE PLANTERS' HOUSE 217 

the bloody borders of Kansas, has spotted him ; he 
forces him to have another drinlc, and begins : 

" Sorter dull in St. Louis ! I reckon things will 
liven up by election day." 

The silent man with a fixed vocabulary answers : 

" I reckon they will." 

" Looky heah," continues the desperado, placing a 
hard, lanky hand on the shoulder of his victim, "I've 
put daylight through more'n one Abolitionist out 
there in Kansas, an* I'll be hanged if I don't do the 
same for the fust man here who says he's a-goin' te 
vote fer that miserable skunk Abe Lincoln." 

" Yes, sah." 

'* I reckon the Planters' House is all sound on the 
Little Giant, good ole Steve Douglas." 

" I reckon she air," 

" Now you look like a fair, square, up and down 
Douglas man, an' solid on the nigger question." 

" I reckon I be." 

" I kin pick out the skulkin' Yankee cowards in a 
crowd any day ; ye kin tell 'em by their sleek ways 
an' their innocent looks, eh ? " 

"I reckon you can, sah." 

At this juncture up stalks another fire-eater, eyes 
glaring, hair long and loose, his big felt hat set 
back on his head, and, fixing his ferret gaze on the 
silent man, shouts : 

" Hurrah fer Fremont ! I fit under John C. 
Fremont ! You're a Fremont man, I know ye air, 
and we're a-goin' t'elect him. Come on, have a drink 
with me, gov'nah," and up he drags the wretched 
victim to the crowded bar, and there, trembling like a 
canary-bird in a cage between two rattlesnakes, the 



218 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

mau of peace and silence has just wit enough left to 
answer with assumed assurance, " Yes, sah ; I reckon 
ye're right, sah." 

But the scene has not ended. 

The Kansas fire-eater, who is now fairly on the 
war-path and itching for a scalp, turns suddenly on 
the man of peace and shouts : 

" Looky heah, stranger, you told me just now you 
was fer Douglas ! What do you mean by harrowin' 
the feelin's of an honest man ? If there's anything I 
despise worse'n a Yankee its a turn-coat. Yes, sir-ree, 
a turn-coat ! Set there a-tellin' me how clean broke 
up ye air on Steve Douglas, an' now ye're drinkin' 
that stranger's whisky an' tellin' him ye're plumb 
gone on Fremont I Is that there a fair fight ? " 

By this time the silent man is saying his prayers, 
also in silence — scared, white in the face, not knowing 
what to do or what to say, afraid to move, his stock 
phrases worse than puerile, with just life enough left 
to hear his heart thumping and not enough strength 
left in his arm to raise his glass to his lips. 

" If I thought you was a turn-coat I tell ye what it 
is, stranger, I'd let ye have this right through yer 
gizzard," and out he whips a dirk, pointed and deadly, 
a fearful gleam whirling in a circle as he brandishes 
the cold steel over his head with a wicked twist of the 
shoulder. 

But the Fremont man, now beginning to feel the 
whisky working, stands at the other side of the man 
of silence. He, too, is armed, but with a revolver. 

'' See here, pard ! " he cries, " suppose we fight it 
out right now, an' let the gov'nah here hold the stakes, 
as ye might say." 



THE PLANTERS' HOUSE 219 

The gov'nali ? Good heavens I He moans the 
wise, silent man, the innocent, neutral lamb, the 
chewer of peaceful cuds and mumbler of joint- stock 
plirases. 

But listen. You can almost hear what he is 
thinking. He is saying to himself, '' When rogues 
fall out the honest come by their own ' ' ; and at the 
first sign of hostilities down he dips and, like a yellow 
dog, wriggles his way through the crowd to the door 
and "slides out." 

The bar-room, corridors, and halls are now filled 
mth excited men under the influence of drink and 
half wild with suppressed passion. Some, with blood- 
shot eyes, pass in and out as if seeking someone to 
devour ; the place begins to steam with the heat, and 
to cool the heated blood more iced mint- juleps are 
disposed of, and yet more, until heads begin to reel, 
quarrels arise from mere nothings, and amidst a chorus 
of howls and imprecations the Yankees, the " Dutch," 
and sometimes the Irish are denounced as ''low white 
trash," cowards, and traitors. 

In such crowds, about that time, might have been 
seen the auctioneer of human flesh, the professional 
slave-seller, the boldest, most abandoned of them all, 
because the law was on his side. Erebus had spewed 
him up from the nethermost corners — a pollution to 
the polluted, a creature without wit, humour, or feel- 
ing ; a menace to civilisation and a curse to patriotism. 

The Planters' House was the magnet-stone that 
attracted not only the country " moss-backs," but the 
city millionaire, the poor man out of work and the 
busy man with too much work ; and here, with the 
others, came Captain U. S. Grant, plain, unassuming 



220 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

Mr. Grant, as he was usually called, and if not tlie 
plainest man hereabouts, certainly one of the most 
discouraged and disappointed. He was often to be 
seen lounging about the public rooms waiting for 
something to turn up. The future commander-in- 
chief of the Army belonged to the silent ones, but one 
whose wits had been sharpened by a vast worldly 
experience and profound knowledge of human nature, 
and his silence was not a sign of lethargy and stupidity, 
but of knowledge and wisdom. I can see him now, 
sitting in an arm-chair, smoking an El Sol cigar and 
waiting with an air of extreme patience and resigna- 
tion. But waiting for what ? Did he himself know ? 
"Why was he in St. Louis at all, since everything he 
attempted proved a business failure, from hauling 
cord-wood into town from the log-house he had built 
for his family out on the Gravois Eoad and selling it, 
one load at a time, to the opening of a real estate 
office for the buying and letting of houses ? Every- 
thing he now touched failed; and yet, when the 
critical hour arrived, this plain, silent man, this 
business failure, would be on hand to offer his services 
to General Lyon at the United States Arsenal. 

My father often talked with Mr. Grant about the 
price of town lots and the rent of certain houses. 

Captain Grant had been all through the Mexican 
War, and had served nine years in the United States 
Army, and had seen service in California. He had 
seen life as few had seen it, yet there he was, one of 
the most discouraged men to be met with anywhere in 
the Mississippi Valley. 

How different the visits to the Planters' House 
of Major W. T. Sherman ! When this future 



THE PLANTERS' HOUSE 221 

commander-in-chief came it was not to lounge about, 
for he was too busy. He too had seen service in 
California. He declared lie had come to settle down 
in St. Louis as an ordinary business man. Major 
Sherman lived only four blocks from us, on Locust 
Street, and Willie Sherman I knew very well. 

Whenever I wanted something like an excursion I 
would take a ride on a Fifth Street car and go for 
miles in a northerly or southerly direction. Major 
Sherman, as President of the Fifth Street car line, 
was often to be seen going to his office in North St. 
Louis in one of these cars. One day three future 
generals happened to be riding in the same car 
together — Grant, the hero of Yicksburg ; Sherman, of 
the great march through Georgia ; and Grierson, of the 
famous raid through Mississippi. 



CHAPTEE XX 

THE TORCH-LIGHT PROCESSION 

The last torch-light procession in St. Louis, before 
the presidential election, was forming and about to 
begin its long march through the principal avenues 
and streets. Fremont, Douglas, and Abraham Lincoln 
were among the number of aspirants to the Presidency. 
I remember it as occurring just before the sixth of 
November, the great day of decision, the flames from 
thousands of torches lending a glow of warmth to 
the chill feeling in the autumn air. My father, being 
a Lincoln enthusiast, was hard at work winning 
adherents to the Eepublican cause. None but the 
women and children were idle, and all took sides. 

My impression of this winding file of men was that 
it had entered the city from some strange, distant 
country — that it had, in some way, come up from the 
river, and that the host of men with torches were 
bringing with them an element of bitter strife, of 
combat, final and fatal. I stood in the dense crowd 
on the side-walk, and as the followers of the different 
candidates passed with their various emblems I was 
struck with the difference between the Lincoln men 
and the others. About the latter there was something 
spasmodic, excitable, almost hysterical, the weakness 
of theii' favourites coming out in their own shouts and 
actions, in the expression of the faces, in the hang-dog 
look of the bodies ; and it was not surprising, for on 



THE TORCH-LIGHT PROCESSION 223 

the part of Lincoln's opponents there was that huge 
coil of the black serpent, Slavery, to drag with them, 
and the effort was already plainly visible on every 
face and every figure. Besides this, there was every 
indication that many of Lincoln's opponents were 
under the influence of drink, while the friends of the 
Kail- Splitter walked with calm bodies and cool heads, 
shouting with a will, fixed, determined, with the 
consciousness of power and pre-ordained victory. 

On it went, winding, winding, in and out, the 
flickering lights passing like a fiery dragon as far as 
one could see, the whole city receiving a symbolical 
visitation by fire, a baptismal warning of what was 
coming within the short space of a year from that 
hour. 

At last the day of election came and the city woke 
in a sort of dream. People hardly knew what they 
were doing: the tension of the past few weeks had 
been more than many could bear. Thousands walked 
to the poll in a half-dazed condition, with barely 
sufficient will power to cast a vote. Haggard faces 
were to be seen, men who had not slept soundly for 
weeks ; for the triumph of the Abolition Party, the 
election of Abraham Lincoln, meant the freeing of 
the slaves and the ruin of thousands of slave- owners. 

The seventh of November arrived, heavy with 
fatality ; there were rumours, impossible rumours, 
that the tall, gaunt Eail-Splitter up there at Spring- 
field, Illinois, was elected. Yet none but the 
Eepublicans dared believe it. The thing sounded too 
much like the closing of a period, the passing of a 
cycle, the winding-up of an age of dreaming. 

The eighth of November arrived, and the dreadful 



224 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

rumours were repeated, this time louder, with more 
persistency, with something depressing added to fear ; 
but when the ninth was ushered in and the rumours 
were turning to acclamations of victory, a feeling of 
consternation took possession of all who owned slaves. 

What to do? The question was asked on either 
side; but there was no immediate solution of a 
difficulty so unheard-of, so unique. Wait and see 
what the Eepublicans will do when their idol, 
Abraham Lincoln, is inaugurated as President on 
the fourth of March next. 

In April of the next year, 1861, about a month 
after Lincoln had entered the White House at 
Washington, I was sitting at my desk in the Benton 
School. The windows were open and I noticed a 
strange flag fluttering about in a yard below. 
Presently, up went the flag to the top of a pole, 
high enough to be seen by people in the street. 
It was the first display in St. Louis of a Secession 
Flag. 

During the raising of this flag Mr. Gilfillen, the 
principal of Benton School, was nervous and angry ; 
he walked about the room darting fierce looks at 
certain of the pupils. The burly O'Kieff, in his class- 
room, at the recital of lessons, gave us extra hard 
beatings with his ruler. 

When I left the school-house I met excited groups 
of men discussing the significance of the hoisting of 
such a flag. Everyone looked anxious and worried ; 
things were coming to a head — thunder-clouds were 
gathering ; but the lightning was reserved for the 
tenth of May. 

At this time we were living on Pine and Ninth 



THE TORCH-LIGHT PROCESSION 225 

Streets, in the heart of the *' fire-eating " district, 
only three blocks fi'om the headquarters of the Rebel 
Club, which was also on Pine Street. 

Up to the present things were going on in the 
usual way, and to the eyes of a stranger St. Louis, 
which was even at this time the storm-centre of the 
War, wore its habitual, sleepy aspect, more sleepy 
during the warm spring months, perhaps, than at any 
other time of the year — at least, it always seemed so to 
me ; and while a few far-seeing men, like Grant and 
Sherman, could see the storm coming, many of the 
Southern people, especially the young men, looked at 
the situation much as they would at a trotting match 
at the fair grounds — the blue ribbon would be carried 
off by a racer from Kentucky. Others thought there 
would be a short tussle with a few Northern AboK- 
tionists, when things would settle down again in the 
old way ; no matter what happened, the courage — 
both moral and physical — would all be on the side of 
the South. It was not conceivable that a Government 
headed by Lincoln could fight anyone or anything. 

Some days passed. With the taking of Fort 
Sumter by the rebels at Charlestown, South Carolina, 
President Lincoln called for volunteers to put down 
the rebellion. Five regiments, composed mainly of 
German citizens of St. Louis, were soon got together and 
were to be seen marching towards the National Arsenal 
in the southern part of the city. Could it be possible ? 
Were these foreigners taking sides with the North 1 
Were these shuffling, heavy, stupid-looking men, 
incapable of marching in order, setting out to fight 
someone ? People in the streets looked on amazed 
Even the fi'iends of the North could hardly believe 
y.s. Q 



226 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

their eyes. As for the Southerners who saw the 
queer regiments pass, jeers and jokes greeted the 
"Hessians," as these Germans were called; and the 
word " Hessian " became from that day a word of 
contempt among Southern people in St. Louis. 

These troops did not march so much as shuffle along ; 
and I can see them now, for never since that time 
have I seen troops in any part of the world at all like 
them. I was instantly struck by the look of detach- 
ment on their faces, the machine-like movements of 
their bodies, the long, shuffling, dogged step, and, 
somehow, I thought they looked hungry withal, and 
perhaps they were, and I received an impression as of 
a quick impact of something silently fatal, bewildering, 
crushed, ghastly. Were these Germans stoics 1 Or 
were they what they looked, simply apathetic 1 Were 
they hiding their feelings under a mask of indifference, 
or were they simply human automatons ? Mystery. 



CHAPTER XXI 

CAMP JACKSON 

What a day for the young bloods of St. Louis ! 
We stood on Twelfth Street and watched the gathering 
of the aristocratic clans, so to speak — the sons of 
wealthy Southern families, Secessionists and rebels, 
even now, forming in line here, Monday, the sixth of 
May, by order of the Governor of the State. Many of 
them I knew personally ; some of them were members 
of Bible-classes at the different Sunday schools I 
attended; and I noticed in particular young Hutchinson, 
the son of the rector of Trinity Church. 

All the different companies were here, some of them 
in handsome uniforms ; but the brilliant appearance 
of the Dragoons put every other company in the shade. 
Could anything equal this gathering for harmony of 
colour, the beauty of youth, aristocratic breeding, 
clannish pride, courage, audacity, contempt of the 
northern Abolitionist ? Out they marched, in regular 
order, headed by military music, to Camp Jackson, 
where, by Governor Jackson's command, the " boys " 
were to pitch their tents and engage in drill for a 
short season. In other words, they were to prepare 
to defend the State against any attack of Lincoln's 
volunteers. Open secession was freely talked of, and 
the Hessians and the Yankees were to be annihilated 
at the mere sight of such an imposing array of blood, 
colour, and military tactics. 

Q 2 



228 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

The camp was pitched in Lindell Grove, just outside 
the city, a place I knew well as a picnic ground for 
Sunday-school gatherings in summer time. Here, all 
was forgotten save youthful vanity, impossible ambi- 
tions, flirtation ; and life, as it looked in this fashion- 
able rendezvous, was something worth living, The 
ladies came in hundreds, to see or to be seen, and 
every tent was well supplied with all the delicacies of 
the season. War, if there was to be a war, would be 
a splendid pageant, headed by a military band, and 
the members of Company A, the "Washington Guards, 
the Missouri Guards, the Laclede Guards, and the 
others, would only have to show themselves to make 
the weak-kneed Hessians and Negro-worshippers turn 
and run for their lives. 

The greatest national tragedies have always begun 
by a comedy. And this comedy went on exactly four 
days. On the 9th of May crowds visited the United 
States arsenal, in the southern part of the town, where 
General Lyon was hastily getting his German regi- 
ments in order, and where we met Major Sherman, 
who had come down on a Fifth Street car with his two 
boys to see what was going on. In his Memoirs 
General Sherman says : 

" Within the Arsenal wall four regiments of Horse 
Guards were drawn up in parallel lines, and I saw 
men distributing cartridges to the boxes. I saw 
General Lyon running about with his hair in the 
wind and his pockets full of papers, wild and irregular ; 
but I knew him to be a man of vehement purpose and 
determined action. I saw, of course, that it meant 
business, but whether for defence or offence I did not 
know. The next morning I went up to the railroad 



CAMP JACKSON 229 

office in Bremen, as usual, and heard at every comer 
of the streets that the " Dutch " were moving on 
Camp Jackson. People were barricading their houses. 
I hurried through my business as quickly as I could 
and got back to my house on Locust Street by twelve 
o'clock." 

By the time Major Sherman got home, General 
Lyon, with his Hessians, was at Camp Jackson. 

On that morning, the 10th of May, my father, who 
had gone out very early, came home with alarming 
rumours. Our house, he said, was situated right in 
the midst of the danger zone. "We were likely to 
catch anything flying about in the shape of bullets, 
and he had heard that General Lyon was about to 
order his five German regiments up from the Arsenal 
to Camp Jackson, and in all probability they would 
march past our house. The only safe place in our 
house — which was a " frame " one — would be in the 
basement, the walls there being of brick ; and here we 
were ready to go at the first sign of danger. Half an 
hour passed, then an hour, and still no sign of any- 
thing unusual. Never had the streets seemed more 
tranquil. "While one member of the family was on 
the portico looking down Pine Street, I was on the 
watch looking down Ninth Street. All of a sudden, 
without so much as the beating of a drum, without 
the slightest noise, except for the shuffling of so many 
big, heavy feet, General Lyon made his appearance at 
the corner of Ninth and Chestnut Streets, just one 
block away, riding at the head of a drove of Hessians — 
for they seemed like so many cattle to me, with, no 
doubt, some wild bulls among them capable of causing 
a stampede, no one knew what, all the more menacing 



230 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

because so awkward — and, turning the corner, faced 
straight up Ninth Street. They would pass our house. 
I gave the alarm, and down came every member of 
the family into the basement, when the thick outside 
shutters were closed for fear of bullets. There was a 
wide crack in one of the shutters, and through this I 
got a good look at the queerest body of soldiers I ever 
saw. On they came, shambling up Ninth Street until 
General Lyon came to Pine Street, when, at the 
corner of our house, he turned his men up Pine Street 
in the direction of Camp Jackson ; and hardly had he 
done so when crack ! crack ! went rifle shots, and we 
all dipped bodies, squatting in the corners. On they 
came, regiment after regiment ; it seemed as if they 
would never cease passing. At last, peeping out, I 
saw the end of the long, shambling line, dragging its 
dogged length off towards the country. 

Out flocked the people into Pine Street. Two 
bullets had struck our house, and just outside a German 
soldier was sitting on the side walk with his back to 
the wall. Coming closer we could distinguish where 
the Mini^ bidlet had penetrated his temple. He was 
dead. Close by a servant with a pail of water was 
washing a stream of blood ofi the side-walk where 
someone had been killed, and the sight to me was 
indescribably horrible. My father said this was civil 
war. We walked on down Pine Street, and at Seventh 
Street we went over into Olive Street, and then, seeing 
a crowd, we came to the fruit stand of some Italians. 
The dead body of the proprietor had just been carried 
in, and loud wails arose from the wife and children, 
so suddenly plunged into mourning. All along the 
line of march there had been firing, both from the 



CAMP JACKSON 281 

ranks of the German volunteers and from individual 
Rebels ; these latter fired into the ranks of the 
soldiers while hidden behind church pillars or from 
windows. 

Meanwhile, on the Germans trudged to Camp 
Jackson, spreading consternation among the people 
eveiy where en route ^ while the fashionable throng in 
Lindell Grove preened their beautiful feathers, like 
so many birds of paradise in a Garden of Eden. 

All at once a rider on a swift horse announced the 
words, " The Hessians ! The Hessians ! " 

"Was it, then, nothing but a dream ? Could it be 
possible that the Yankee General Lyons, a nobody 
from the Government Arsenal, was tramping up the 
bend in the road, and in another moment would be 
descending towards the Grove, with other troops 
arriving exactly on time by another road, hemming in 
the whole camp, the gaily-dressed crowd, the sight- 
seers ! 

The streets in town being free of soldiers, we went 
up Locust Street, where we saw Major Sherman, with 
his son Willie, walking up and down before his house, 
talking to the neighbours, and '' listening for the 
sound of musketry and cannon in the direction of the 
Camp." 

Major Sherman walked over to Olive Street, beyond 
Twelfth, and there saw a man running from Camp 
Jackson, shouting as he ran, " They've surrendered ! 
They've surrendered ! " 

With this news Major Sherman went with his son 
as fast as he could to the Camp, while I returned with 
my father to our house, where developments were 
awaited with the greatest anxiety. At the Camp 



232 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

Major Sherman and his boy just escaped being killed 
by throwing themselves on the ground, and several 
men, women, and children lost their lives in a wild 
fusillade, owing to the irresponsible actions of a 
drunken man who had nothing to do with the soldiers 
of either side. 

At last we heard the cry, " Here they come ! " The 
bitter hour had arrived. From Twelfth Street they 
were marching down Pine Street past our house. The 
different companies of gay and sanguine young Eebels, 
now prisoners of war, came marching down between 
files of the hated and despised Hessians on their way 
to the Arsenal, right through the heart of the city. 
Every window on Pine Street was filled with spectators 
— mothers, sisters, wives — for the men were elsewhere. 
Imprecations were showered on the " Dutch," hand- 
kerchiefs were waved in honour of the prisoners, and 
when they passed our house we saw young Hutchinson 
among the number. 

They put on a bold front ; they were not of the kind 
to let an incident like this discourage them ; for, after 
all, they proved themselves made of sterner stuff, 
and hardly one there but would turn up later in the 
Eebel ranks on the bloody fields of Tennessee and 
Mississippi. 



CHAPTER XXII 

GENERAL FREMONT 

In the summer of 1861 I acted as page to General 
Fremont, who had succeeded General Harney as 
militaiy commander in St. Louis, and who occupied 
Major Brant's new mansion on Chouteau Avenue, 
where he had his headquarters. I wore a dark blue 
uniform, and my duties consisted in carrying letters, 
dispatches, etc., from General Fremont to officers in 
other parts of the house. I saw people of all con- 
ditions trying in every way to obtain an interview 
with the General. One day, on entering the com- 
mander's room, I was surprised to see two foreign 
officers seated in front of his table. I took them to 
be Germans. They wore striking uniforms ; and the 
comedy of the whole thing became apparent when 
people learnt that General Fremont had invited them 
to accompany him home from Europe to give the 
officers of his army some idea of military tone 
and style. The leading citizens were indignant. 
They could not understand such a whim on the 
part of a democratic leader at a time when action 
and courage meant everything, personal appearance 
nothing. 

General Sherman, in his Memoirs^ says : 
'' McClellan and Fremont were the two men toward 
whom the country looked as the great Union leaders, 
and towards them were streaming the newly-raised 



234 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

regiments of infantry and cavalry, and batteries of 
artillery." 

When General Sherman came to St. Louis to see 
Fremont on urgent business connected with the war, 
Sherman stopped at the Planters' House, and meeting 
Mr. R. M. Renick, inquired where he could find 
General Fremont. Mr. Renick said: "What do you 
want with General Fremont? You don't suppose he 
will see such as you ? " Then he explained that 
'' Fremont was a great potentate, surrounded by 
sentries and guards ; that he had a more showy court 
than any real king ; that he kept senators, governors, 
and the first citizens dancing attendance for days and 
weeks before granting an audience," etc. 

Callers came by scores, among them several old 
scouts and pioneers who had accompanied Fremont on 
his Western exploits. I was far more interested in 
these men than I was in the General himself, for they 
recounted the whole history of Fremont's disastrous 
expedition from St. Louis to California in 1848. One 
day several of these men appeared, and the oldest asked 
to see the General. They were old friends, they said, 
and expected to be admitted to his presence without 
any trouble ; but they waited a long time, returning 
day after day, and for weeks I saw them sauntering 
along Fourth Street, hanging about the Planters' 
House, where they told stories of their thrilling 
adventures among the Indians. I saw much of these 
men and others in later years, during my sojourns in 
New Mexico, Arizona, and Utah, who had been with 
Fremont on his exploring expeditions, and I always 
listened with deep interest to all I could hear about 
the wild West of the 'forties and 'fifties. 



GENERAL FREMONT 285 

Fremont left the Missouri River in October, 1848, 
on his fourth expedition to California. He was then 
thirty-six years of age. His aim was to make for the 
Rio Grande, and from that wild region find a pass 
through the Rocky Mountains. The route to the 
Pacific Coast had never been explored, and Colonel 
Fremont (as he then was) had no aid from the 
Government, as in former adventures. He picked 
out thirty-three men — hunters, scouts, muleteers, inter- 
preters, half-breeds, and some Indians, well tried by 
him in his former travels through the deserts and 
mountains. He had to pick out and test, before buy- 
ing them, a hundred and twenty mules. Then he had 
to look to the selection of fire-arms, ammunition, 
bacon, corn-meal, coffee, sugar, blankets and buffalo 
robes, fur wraps, besides coloui-ed blankets, beads, 
and paint as presents to placate the Indians and gain 
theii' friendship. Much was needed before they 
reached the Great Divide and the region of snows. 
They were making straight for the hunting-grounds 
of the man-slaying Apaches and Comanches, the 
crafty Kioways, the fierce Utahs and Ai'apahoes, the 
Navahoes, and other tribes roaming the plains and 
hills at that particular season. 

There were the Sioux and the Omahas, who might 
be met with, either on the war-path or on some hunt- 
ing expedition. 

They followed along up the Kansas River, and soon 
began to see signs of that moving life that made the 
prairies of the Kansas region the happy hunting- 
grounds of the Far West of those early days. 

Colonel Fremont now sent on a small band of scouts 
twelve houi's in advance of his company. The scouts 



236 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

were sent out with the fleetest horses and were on the 
lookout for Indians. They came to a place where it 
looked as if the country was dotted with sage-brush, 
but as they proceeded they discovered buffalo instead 
of sage-brush. The animals were moving slowly 
down from the north, a wilderness of black forms. 

They could not discover through a spy-glass any 
end to the herd. At times small, compact groups 
grazed together ; then the animals became more 
scattered, but there was always an unbroken line 
somewhere visible. In an hour's time the herd 
became thicker, and they soon began to traverse the 
main portion. The earth was now black with buffalo, 
and the aspect of the moving animals began to look 
dangerous ; the scouts feared a stampede, surrounded 
as they were on all sides with savage-looking beasts. 
The number was computed at many hundreds of 
thousands. 

The party moved with caution, not intending to do 
any killing till they got to the edge of the herd. 
Suddenly a commotion was visible among the animals 
where there was a slight rise in the prairie. At that 
point they were on the gallop, while a mile or two 
away the herd was stampeding. The Indians had 
arrived. The scouts stopped and made ready. Two 
dangers faced them : the stampede and the savage 
Sioux, now galloping their horses alongside of the 
finest bison and pouring their arrows into the flying 
bulls. Ko one seemed to know from what direction 
the Indians had arrived, but just at that spot there 
was a break in the herd which left an open space 
through which the Sioux made the attack. They 
had, no doubt, been waiting in hiding somewhere 



GENERAL FREMONT 287 

on the prairie. They were killing for winter supplies, 
both for meat and buffalo robes, and at first they 
were probably too much concerned with the hunt 
to trouble themselves about the white men. Part 
of the main herd was making straight for the scouts 
while another portion had headed off to the left, and 
yet a third broke in an easterly direction, and the 
whites were at a loss to find a reason for so curious 
a thing among the buffalo, when to their amazement 
they saw what they understood to be a second band 
of Indians coming, as it were, out of the ground. 
This band separated into two parts, their aim being to 
drive the buffalo in a given direction. The scouts 
proclaimed them Comanches, as these rode Mexican 
mustangs and had the crafty art of creeping along, 
hiding behind their animals or low bushes or slight 
elevations of the ground and then suddenly making 
their presence both seen and felt. 

It looked now as if the Indians of both bands and 
the stampeding buffalo would sweep down and 
suiTOund the scouting party. All they could do was 
to wait, all eyes fixed on the mancEUvres of the 
Indians. The buffalo that had been divided and 
scattered by the Comanches, were running helter- 
skelter in three divisions, chased by the fleetest and 
most cunning of the bands, uttering a quick, sharp 
yell. By this time the buffalo everywhere had caught 
the panic. All raised their heads and started on the 
run, followed by the animals coming doTvn in the 
main stream from where the Comanches began the 
chase. 

A small band of Comanches had now to deal with 
two bulls, probably infuriated by arrows. They had 



238 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

turned on their pursuers and were charging among 
them, and while this was going on, the Sioux had 
approached the scouting party on the other side, the 
buffalo fleeing before them in another stream. The 
time had come for the Indians to stop the chase and 
attend to the white men. 

The whole scene had taken but a short time, hardly 
long enough for anyone to realise fully what was 
happening. 

The scattered Comanches assembled in one group 
for a pow-wow. The Sioux, on their side, had never 
scattered, but had come to a stand, leaving a large 
number of dead buffalo strewn along the line of chase. 
One of the scouts, called Lame- Bear, a renegade 
Comanche spy, who knew a little Spanish and some 
English, now gave his opinion of the situation by 
signs and words as follows : Both bands of Indians 
had come out on a hunting expedition as well as for 
adventure ; they had met here by chance ; but the 
Comanches, still more cunning than the Sioux, when 
they discovered the white men, formed a plan to 
stampede the buffalo. In the confusion they would 
attack the white men, but the superior numbers of the 
Sioux caused them to change their plan. Now they 
were holding a council of war ; in another moment 
the whole thing would be decided ; there would be a 
" lifting of scalps." 

Lame-Bear had hardly spoken the last word when 
the Comanches set out with a great war-whoop 
straight for the Sioux, who were sitting as still as 
stone images on their horses. The Comanches 
swept on like demons, unconscious of their own 
inferior numbers. 



GENEEAL FREMONT 239 

" Look ! " cried Lame-Bear, " the buffaloes I " 
It was a fresh stampede from the north. The 
vacant space separating the Comanchcs and the 
Sioux was threatened by this new mass of frightened 
animals, coming down in a stream that would pass 
right in front of the band of Sioux, driven, no doubt, 
by another band farther north. Seeing this, the 
intrepid Comanches redoubled their efforts to reach 
their rivals, and at the moment the first buffalo 
reached the line, a hail of arrows poured from the 
two bands and several Comanches fell. In another 
second a horse fell under a Sioux, then several 
warriors. The space had now become fairly blocked 
with buffalo, and, maddened by the smell of blood, 
they bellowed and jumped about as they passed close 
to the Sioux, who were now forced to desist, while the 
Comanches, caught in the stampede, were compelled 
to gallop along with the herd to escape destruction. 

The scouts began to move on, when the Comanches 
veered round to the south at a safe distance from their 
guns. 



CHAPTEE XXIil 

THE DANCE OF DEATH 

After travelling between four and five hundred 
miles out from the Missouri, Fremont's expedition 
struck the pow-wow grounds on the Kansas Eiver, 
the camping-place where the famous hunter and 
scout, old Fitzpatrick, had in charge some thousands 
of Indians. 

At that time this scout was acting as Government 
Indian Agent. His special business was to deal with 
the savages in such a manner that they would, at 
least for a time, leave the white emigrants unmolested 
while on their way across the plains and mountains to 
California. Fremont expected to meet here some 
hundreds of Indians, mainly chiefs and leading 
warriors, instead of which he encountered whole 
tribes gathered from the far West, South, and South- 
west. He calculated on staying here some little 
time to find out aU he could, both from the whites 
and the Indians, who would give him important 
information and all the latest mountain news brought 
in from scouts and hunters from the West. 

Before the establishment of this agency, hundreds 
of emigrants had been murdered and their scalps 
taken ; but old Fitzpatrick, as cunning as any Apache, 
knew all the weak and strong points of the Indians, 
and could pacify them at small cost either to himself 
or the Government. He knew the magic power 



THE DANCE OF DEATH 241 

residing in coloured beads, red and yellow blankets, 
paint, and such like trifles, when dealing with them. 
Yet, in spite of all this, the Indians were fooling 
him. 

Whole tribes of sleek, well-fed savages, arrayed in 
feathers, brilliant blankets, paint and all the fineiy 
of needlework and fantastic neck and head-gear, 
greeted Colonel Fremont's arrival, gazing in grim 
silence and weird dignity at the white men, their 
mules and their weapons. There were one or two 
tribes new to Fremont's scouts. There was old Flying- 
Horse, chief of an intrepid band of Southern Apaches, 
with a great flight of eagle feathers pointing outward 
from the crown of his long head to the nape of his 
neck, a stripe of yellow paint running from his fore- 
head right down across his nose, across his chin, and 
down his breast ; and two Indians of greater import- 
ance than any of the chiefs : the much-dreaded Arappa- 
Honta, grand enchanter of the Navahoes, and Umbaha- 
Tan, a great medicine-man and ''weaver of spells" of 
the Utahs. 

Queer things were brewing. 

That same evening Lame-Bear asked one of 
Fremont's men to walk out with him where the others 
could not hear what he had to say. "When they got 
beyond the camp Lame-Bear began in a mixture of 
Spanish and English : " You see that big Medicine, 
Umbaha-Tan ? He is no friend of Chief Fremont ! 
I have peeped in his wigwam, and know what he is 
doing. He has made a ' bad fire ' in there ; to- 
morrow he will begin his enchantments." 

Here Lame-Bear began to turn round and round 
in imitation of someone who was being dazed and 

v.s. R 



242 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

mentally confused, dizzy in the head, not capable of 
clear thinking. 

" Is Umbaha-Tan working against one person or 
against all our party ? " asked the scout. 

" The whole party. All will feel his power." 

" How is such a thing possible ? " 

"Because the white men don't understand," he 
said. 

" What will Umbaha-Tan do to-night ? " asked the 
scout. 

Lame-Bear gave a slight twist of the head, and, 
with an expression of weariness, said: "He will 
perform the ban-ha-ha," which meant the overture to 
the play, or the creation of the atmosphere. 

The guide felt that any words or explanations 
would be useless, that nothing could change the order 
of Fate. He himself had his mind made up, and 
knew precisely what to expect. 

The moon rose and began to light the plains, and 
the camp-fires blazed in the clear, still air ; and while 
Fremont's men were smoking and resting the Indians 
began to glide about, ghost-like, in the moonlight, by 
ones and twos at first, coming and going for the most 
part in absolute silence. Some of them were roasting 
buffalo, which they did by making a big hole in the 
ground and cooking the whole carcass, barbecue 
fashion. 

Old Fitzpatrick was asked if he did not think the 
Indians in the camp were more sullen than usual, but 
he only said : "I don't see as they act any different 
from the real Simon-pure article " ; and then he went 
on : " You know how Natur' turns 'em out, I reckon ; 
Natur' manifactures 'em, but she don't finish 'em; when 



THE DANCE OF DEATH 243 

she manifactures a white man she finishes him. An 
Injin is finished when he hez a top-knot, an' he's 
polished when he gets his war-paint on ; a white 
man is polished jest as soon as he gets his face 
washed." 

Arappa-Honta, the enchanter, was receiving visitors 
in his wigwam. He sat cross-legged, on thick 
cushions of bear and buffalo skins, bolt upright, his 
body quite still, partly wrapped in a robe of wild- 
cat skins. The white visitors immediately became 
conscious of something wonderful in the influence he 
threw about him of length and distance. Everything 
about his features was long and thin : long, narrow 
head, rising far above his eyebrows; long, narrow 
eyes, veiled and absent ; long, thin nose ; long, spare 
jaws and chin; and a neck that might have grown 
in a night, like a mushroom-stalk. The marvellous 
head was capped with a circle of black feathers, and 
from the centre of the crown rose three black 
ostrich-feathers, which must have been brought from 
St. Louis or Mexico, or stolen from emigrants. His 
arms were covered with ornaments, while his face was 
made still more extraordinary by being covered with 
saffron paint; there was a black streak of paint 
running from the top of the forehead, down the nose 
to his bosom. These colours meant that he was 
getting ready for business ; the days of idle dreaming 
were past. 

According to Lame-Bear, Arappa-Honta was getting 
ready to travel, in spirit. 

His body had something of the painted image about 
it, so still and motionless. 

An Indian, with something of the wild animal in 

B 2 



244 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

his face, placed on the fire, whicli was burning in the 
middle of the wigwam, some leaves that raised a thick 
smoke. Arappa-Honta moved his head a little and 
breathed deeply ; then he prepared his pipe, filled it 
with some of the leaves and began to smoke. Several 
of the Indians did the same, after which the white 
visitors left the wigwam. Hearing muffled sounds 
coming from the direction of Umbaha-Tan's lodge, 
they went towards it. Indians were walking about 
outside, listening ; there was not one who did not 
know the secret meaning of the deep, drum-like 
sounds coming from the weaver's tent. As the 
Indians drew nearer they would stop, bow their heads 
and listen, the same as if they had been white men 
listening to the sound of earth falling on a coffin. 
Indians of different tribes came and went, their eyes 
glistening like black beads in the bright moonlight ; 
they glided past like cats, and listened as if smitten 
by some unknown power. They seemed to be 
absent from the spot and enjoying something far 
away. 

Old Fitzpatrick was holding a confab with Colonel 
Fremont in the commander's tent, with some other 
scouts and guides, and already there were signs of 
contradictory evidence and advice concerning the 
route to be taken and attempts to be made to find 
passes through the Eocky Mountains. 

Up to this time Fremont had appeared pretty 
confident of his ability to go straight through the 
mountains without much loss of mules and with but 
little danger to his men ; but now old Fitzpatrick told 
one story, while the new arrivals from the West told 
another. Fremont refused to take a decision, and said 



THE DANCE OF DEATH 245 

he would wait a day or two, when fresh news might 
arrive that would clear up certain doubtful points. 

That night the whites lay awake listening to the low, 
drum -like beatings in Umbaha-Tan's wigwam. Once 
in a while the unusual notes of a flute-like instrument 
could be heard coming from the direction of Arappa- 
Honta's wigwam. These sounds only ceased with the 
setting of the moon. Lame-Bear said he had a 
presentiment of impending disaster, and he could see 
the mountains loom like bastions in the blue distance; 
bleak, barren, more immovable than the stars, inhos- 
pitable as frozen tombs, inviting the last gasp in the 
still, frozen air ; and some of the white men felt a 
horrible attraction towards the desolate snow-covered 
region of the Eockies. 

The whole camp, white men and Indians, were up 
early and stirring, some busy with one thing, some 
with another, while in one of the tents a mail- carrier 
from Taos, in New Mexico, was being awakened by 
some of the men who had been deputed to watch him 
and keep him from what the Indians call the death 
sleep. He had ridden for some days and nights, 
making a record journey, and had given strict orders 
to have his sleep broken after a few hours, as the 
Indians considered it fatal for a man in that condition 
of fatigue to sleep twelve hours on a stretch. When 
he got his eyes wide open he thought he was captured 
by Indians and going to be bound to a tree and 
tortured, and he began to shout and rave ; but they 
finally brought him to by dashes of cold water over 
his head and face. 

The news he brought gave Fremont no information 
that could be used to any advantage. 



246 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

Lame-Bear came about noon with the news that the 
Indians were getting ready for a great dance. It was 
being kept as secret as possible; but, even if the 
secret leaked out, nothing could stop them, as the 
dance was to appear like a festival of peace and 
goodwill. 

Early in the afternoon small bands of Indians began 
to come in with the spoils of the buffalo hunts, and the 
Comanches encountered on the plains arrived with 
the scalps of the Sioux slain in the buffalo fight. 
The sight of the fresh scalps, the plentiful supply of 
buffalo and antelope meat, the perpetual noise of the 
musical instruments of the different medicine-men, 
kept the Indians at fever-heat, and for the rest 
of the day painted faces became more and more 
plentiful. 

Huge barbecues for a buffalo-meat feast were in 
preparation, and the chiefs became more independent 
and haughty in demeanour. 

About eleven o'clock that evening the Indians 
emerged from their lodges by hundreds, making tracks 
for the open prairie south of the camp. At the same 
time the sound of Indian drums came from various 
parts, increasing in force until the air vibrated with 
the queer noises ; and the painted faces and arms of 
many of the savages added something demoniacal to 
the scene. 

When questioned about it, old Fitzpatrick said it 
meant a buffalo dance ; others thought it a dance in 
honour of the moon ; others, again, declared it was a 
dance in honour of Fremont, and this last explanation 
was accepted by most of the white men. 

Lame-Bear now said that several tribes would hold 



THE DANCE OF DEATH 247 

dances in unity ; but the leaders would be the Utah 
tribe, headed by Umbaha-Tan, and the Southern 
Apaches, headed by old Arappa-Honta. All the pre- 
parations had been made beforehand, and things went 
as by clockwork. Far out on the plains a long row of 
flickering lights could be seen. At last the Indians 
arrived at the dancing-grounds, carrying small torches 
made of pine knots, and gathered in a huge circle, 
without noise or confusion, as if each Indian had 
rehearsed the scene scores of times, and knew the 
exact position to take. 

There was a signal ; the whole crowd, to the 
number of thousands, squatted on the ground, all 
decorated in their best colours, the flaming reds of the 
blankets becoming visible in the glow of the torches, 
with the bright yellows gleaming among the crowd out 
in the clear moonlight. On either side, through the 
mass of squatting Indians, there was space enough 
for horses and files of dancers to pass. From beyond 
the circle, on one side, there came two Indians 
mounted on Mexican mustangs, with faces painted in 
red stripes, meant to be taken as a symbol of peace to 
the whites of the camp, but in reality to deceive. 
They walked their horses round the circle once, and 
passed out on the other side. Two more appeared, 
with faces painted white and red, and made the cii'cuit. 
Lame-Bear said it was meant as a warning to all the 
Indians of the sort of thing they would witness, and 
prepare them for the full display of the medicine- 
men's power. These in turn were followed by a 
group of four reed-blowers, with bodies half bare and 
curiously painted. They were the musical charmers 
who would put the crowd in the proper mood. The 



248 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

whistles produced a great and solemn change. Faces 
became rapt with wondering awe as the group walked 
round and round the ring. Other dancers entered, 
followed by mounted Indians. A band of twenty 
Utahs, disguised as wolves, appeared, and began to 
crawl and jump as they slowly passed round. The 
wolves snapped and growled as they approached a 
figure seated alone on the rim of the charmed circle, 
and when they arrived in front of the strange appari- 
tion sitting robed in white and black, for it was the 
great Medicine, Arappa-Honta, in a new dress, 
resembling a demon in the midst of a wild beasts' 
inferno, they halted in a line, squatted, and set up a 
whimpering and whining which no white man could 
imitate. This over, they rose and moved on, limping 
in imitation of a wounded man or animal. When 
halfway round the ring in strode an Indian of giant 
frame encased in a full buffalo skin — horns, hide, and 
tail, all complete ; swaying to and fro, he rolled along 
till he got Iq front of the wolves, and then he began 
such antics as would defy description, for it seemed 
impossible for one man to carry such a weight and 
perform such evolutions — such a rising and falling of 
the body, such a limbering movement of legs and 
head, and when he got as far as Arappa-Honta the 
buffalo went on his knees before the great Medicine, 
and with a smart toss of the woolly head struck the 
ground with one of his horns. He rose from this 
posture the moment Arappa-Honta touched the horns 
with the tip of a long, slender reed ; but the buffalo 
had hardly turned away before he was faced by all 
the wolves in a line, moving towards him in perfect 
order three steps forward, then one step in retreat, 



THE DANCE OF DEATH 249 

repeating this again and again till they got to the 
centre of the circle, all the animals keeping silent. 
By the time the wolves reached the centre the state of 
the crowd was such that the noise of a cannon let ofE 
would not have caused an Indian to turn his head or 
raise an eyebrow, for with every step forward and 
backward it was seen that the charm, whatever it 
might be, was working out without a hitch. All who 
had eyes could understand for themselves. The 
savages sat spellbound, seeing the tide rise and 
recede, while the lone buffalo stood, his shaggy head 
rolling from side to side, awaiting the inevitable 
moment when the wolves would close in and surround 
him. On they came, the tension of the spectators 
becoming unendurable as the wolves took the last 
three steps forward, halting, amidst a chorus of grunts 
and growls, under the buffalo's nose ; but on the 
instant six Indians on ponies came galloping down 
to the circle, and, halting, sent a whirlwind of 
arrows at the body of the buffalo. Every arrow 
struck where it was aimed ; the beast fell, first on his 
knees, then over on his side ; the Indians on horse- 
back rode off, and at the same time the twenty wolves 
formed in a ring around the prostrate buffalo, moving 
in a circle, turning round and round, and by the time 
they had all made the circuit a band of stalwart 
Indians, encased in the skins of huge grizzlies, erect 
on their hind legs, came wobbling and capering in. 
All the drums began to beat, the reed- whistles made a 
shi'ill, weird noise, and the big grizzlies, advancing, 
erect, towards the immovable Arappa-Honta, the real 
dance, the wonderful Indian ball, now began. 

As the grizzlies turned their backs on Arappa-Honta 



250 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

they faced the wolves, arrayed in a line about fifty 
feet away, and at once the grizzlies began to reel 
like drunken men, while the wolves suddenly moved 
forward a few paces, limping, snarling, and now and 
then giving short jumps. 

The big grizzlies now began a slow movement 
towards the centre, and when about thirty feet apart 
both lines halted. One of the wolves and one of the 
largest of the grizzlies parted from the ranks, and 
stepping forward to within a few feet of each other, a 
duel of fantastic figures was set going. With this 
signal a troop of thirty warriors in buffalo skins 
entered at a brisk trot, and being welcomed by a 
chorus of howls and savage grunts by all the animals 
in the arena, a mad quadrille was inaugurated in 
which all the buffaloes, wolves, and grizzlies joined, 
each animal doing his best to escape from contact 
with the others, twisting and evading, by frantic 
contortions, the wolves, nimble as foxes, passing and 
re-passing in and out of the whirling mass. 

The actors had in a short time assumed a more 
regular form of dancing, and the wolves were now 
circulating among the bigger animals in a long ser- 
pentine line that entered the crowd at a certain point 
and progressed in, out, and around like a wriggling 
snake ; and during the time this was going on a 
marked change was visible on the faces of the on- 
lookers. The Dance of Death had begun. All that 
had gone before might be taken as overtures and intro- 
ductions. This was the weaving, the maze of 
bewilderment, chaos and destruction for the white 
man. As the wolves wriggled in and out, the 
buffaloes and grizzlies made desperate efforts to avoid 



THE DANCE OF DEATH 261 

them, but in vain. No sooner did they succeed in 
avoiding contact with the wolves on one side than 
they were touched and pushed on the other by wolves 
skipping and dodging back in a double circle. Quicker 
and quicker they glided, sometimes on all fours, some- 
times standing erect and leaping, for now a buffalo, 
after wobbling and staggering and making every effort 
to escape contact with the wolves, reeled and sank to 
the ground ; a wolf leaped over the body, while 
another, following, stood on the prostrate beast, 
uttering unearthly yells. 

It was the beginning of the end. Buffaloes and 
grizzlies, all were reeling together in the maze of 
death. Two grizzlies fell, and the same movements 
were performed over their bodies. The nearer the 
victims came to falling the faster and more furious did 
the action become ; it was no longer a question of 
avoiding the wolves, but simply a question of when 
the tottering grizzlies and buffaloes would fall dead, 
while Arappa-Honta sat pointing with his magic reed, 
now at this animal, now at that. 

Down they dropped, one by one, the sounds of the 
victorious wolves becoming louder and more general. 
Arappa-Honta rose, and, waving his wand over the 
arena, a storm of grunts and fierce howls broke out 
from the Indians and the wolves, now dancing a last 
ronde over the bodies of the vanquished. 



CHAPTEE XXIV 

IN THE MAZE 

It was late in November when the expedition 
reached the small settlement of Pueblo, on the upper 
Arkansas Eiver, among the foot-hills of the Rockies. 
Here Fremont took a fresh supply of provisions, and 
meeting old Bill Williams, a mountain trapper, he 
engaged him as guide. 

It was not long before they came to the snow, and 
Bill Williams hesitated. He was in doubt as to the 
passes ; but Fremont forced his way on as though 
possessed by a power he could not control. The 
difficulties of the position seemed even now more 
than Fremont and his party could overcome, and yet 
they were only at the beginning. Most of the passes 
were packed with snow, and it required ten days to 
do what in summer-time would have taken two or 
three. 

They pressed on. A great fear was bearing down 
on some of the men. The guide Williams hesitated 
more and more, while Fremont, not daring to show 
the slightest sign of discouragement, put on a bold 
face. He dared not turn back. They were at the 
threshold, so to speak, where they had plenty of time 
to contemplate the frozen peaks and passes of desola- 
tion, and not a white man, not an Indian, but held 
his breath when they came to the awful ravine of 
Eio del Norte. 



IN THE MAZE 253 

They had arrived at what seemed the insur- 
mountable barrier. Fremont looked at old Bill 
Williams, but not a word was spoken. 'No one could 
speak. What was the use ? How is a man to argue 
with a chain of frozen rock thousands of feet high ? 

Fremont took Williams aside, but no one knew 
what was said during the talk. Williams dared not 
admit he had blundered, and Fremont dared not turn 
back, and he decided on the desperate attempt to pass 
through the snow-packed ravines and dig upward 
towards the backbone of the Rockies. All hands were 
encouraged to make the attempt, and Fremont talked 
to his men like a comrade. He worked as hard as 
any, was firm yet kindly in his speech, but fixed on 
impossible things. They could see how he was driven 
on and on, against reason, against common-sense. 
No one had any will except to push forward to the 
heights of isolation. Attempt after attempt was 
made, the men working like condemned prisoners, 
making desperate efi"orts for freedom and life, against 
a hundred odds, against Fate. They might have 
battled with the snow to some good purpose, but now 
they had arrived at the region of storms ; the wind 
blew down from the summits, howled around the 
crags and through the ravines. Not a man there had 
ever seen such a winter. No sooner did one storm 
cease than another set in from the north-east or north- 
west. The mules, reduced in flesh and strength, 
dropped off one after another, frozen in their tracks. 
Still the men worked on as under some fatal spell. 

A last attempt was made to reach the watershed. 
The almost impossible task of stamping a path in the 
snow was accomplished, and animals and men walked 



254 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

over this with extreme caution, exposed to the icy 
winds, one mule after another falling, never to rise 
again. They had reached, by a superhuman effort, the 
storm-swept summit where the fierce winds kept the 
ground bare of snow, and a little food could be found 
for the cattle. Lower down all vegetation was hidden 
under snow. 

They were now face to face with the first great 
calamity of the expedition, and all hope of saving the 
mules was at an end. Fremont tried hard to look 
cheerful, the guides pretended to be hopeful, but 
all felt the first swift touch of death in the most 
abandoned part of the "Western wilds ; all began a 
secret and silent preparation for the last wrestle with 
the grim and lonely conqueror. They were in the 
first grip. Fremont mentioned the name of his old 
friend and companion in adventure. Kit Carson, and 
longed for his counsel ; but Carson was^living in Taos, 
far away to the south. 

They were now more than twelve thousand feet 
above sea level, and all the mules frozen to death. 
The first night in the high regions came with a clear 
sky and a still atmosphere, with the thermometer 
below zero. The stars looked like silver lamps floating 
in the air not far above. The howling of hungry 
wolves came to the ears of some of the men like 
warnings and prophecies of impending calamities, and 
kept several of them from sleeping, in spite of the 
great fatigue they felt. In the morning one of the 
half-breeds swore he had heard the tom-toms of the 
medicine-men, and saw Arappa-Honta sitting in his 
tent. Others declared they had heard queer sounds, 
but the men were not certain whether they were awake 



IN THE MAZE 255 

or dreaming at the time. The half-breeds became 
apprehensive. They considered the expedition as 
good as doomed, and called to mind the scenes and 
rumours at the great dance. 

Fremont now held a solemn counsel with King and 
Preuss, two of his right-hand men, and it was decided 
they should return to the Eio del Norte without delay. 

As soon as they arrived at the Rio del Norte 
Fremont called for volunteers to go to the settlements 
for mules and provisions to enable the whole of the 
party to push on to Taos. He picked out four men, 
naming King as their commander, and the order was 
to lose no time in sending back provisions to the camp, 
as there was just enough food to last fourteen days at 
a pinch. 

When King left the camp it was like a party of 
ghosts walking off in the desolate wastes in search of 
a refuge. 

The ordeal began from the very moment King and 
his small party vanished from sight and left the larger 
party on half rations, in weather that was arctic, every 
day full of suspense, every hour heavy with fore- 
boding. Hardly a night but what one or two of the 
men heard, or thought they heard, the beating of tom- 
toms, while in dreams they would see repeated certain 
movements of the Dance of Death. 

The nights became heavier, the days more weary. 
On the fifth day after King's departure one of the men 
was frozen stiff, and death entered the camp. It 
snowed more or less every day. 

Fremont was now all but panic-stricken, but he 
maintained a stiff upper lip, and after waiting sixteen 
days decided to set out for the settlements himself, 



256 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

with four new men. He now took it for granted that 
King and his party had been killed by the Indians. 
Fremont took his old friend, Preuss, with him, a little 
food, and their blankets. His intention was to make 
for a place on the Eed Eiver some miles north of Taos. 

" Now men," he said, before starting, " if I am not 
back here before your rations are out, or if you don't 
hear from me by messenger, strike out for yourselves 
and follow my trail." 

The party left behind had only three meals for each 
man, a little rum, and some sugar. 

Fremont was not long away before he struck a fresh 
Indian trail. He took this trail, which led in the 
direction he wished to go. He marched on, and the 
fifth day came across a lone Indian who was taking a 
drink from a hole he had made in the ice. The Indian 
happened to be the son of a Utah Chief and a friend 
of Fremont's. The Indian became a guide to the 
party, and furnished them with horses from the tribe 
living close by, and the next day they all set off again 
on the dreary march. 

They had gone about six miles when Fremont 
discovered some smoke in a small wood. His courage 
rose, for now this must certainly be King and his 
party. It was more than three weeks since they had 
left the main camp. They hurried towards the spot ; 
that smoke looked so comforting, there in that desert 
of snow and ice, and it looked as if things would now 
take a turn for the better. Fremont and his band 
were soon in the wood face to face with three half- 
starved men, half-crazed, and so changed he could 
scarcely recognise them. They were not able to walk 
One of them grinned like a bear at bay. Fremont 



IN THE MAZE 267 

had hard work to got them to talk, but he kept on just 
as one would with Indians or little children. They 
had evidently killed a deer, and the bones were lying a 
little way from the fire where the men were sitting. 

" But where's King ? " Fremont asked several 
times. 

" Well, you see, King ain't here," stammered one 
of the men, a little bolder than the others. 

" I can see that," replied Fremont ; " I want to 
know where he is, if you can tell me." 

" Well," the man stammered, '' he wcis here ; that is, 
he came here with us day before yesterday." 

" Where did he go ? " 

" He didn't go no-wheres." 

A horrible grin distorted the features of the spokes- 
man. 

"You see, he give out when we got here; he 
starved to death." 

A fearful silence settled over the group. Fremont, 
with a face as white as the snow, gazed in horror at 
the bones and then at the three pitiable survivors. 
They had been living oif the remains. 

By a superhuman effort Fremont managed to take 
them a march of one hundred and sixty miles, reaching 
the Eed River in ten days. 

From the town of Red River he sent back to the 
twenty- two members of the expedition he had left in 
the mountains one of his trusty men, Godey, with 
forty mules and several Mexicans. This band of 
twenty-two men had waited seven days in camp in the 
gravest suspense, and then left, going in the direction 
taken by Fremont and his party. They were now 
wanderers in a land covered with snow, with no game, 

v.s. s 



258 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

no resources, no hope. They were marching, as it 
were, to their own funeral. Abeady, before aban- 
doning the camp, Lame -Bear said he saw Arappa- 
Honta in a dream. He said the party was doomed. 
Other men were filled with strange presentiments. 
Some, reduced to mere skeletons, began to see "visions. 

They set out under a leaden sky, with a bitter wind 
coming down at their back, the whole face of Nature 
opposed to any kind of courage or hope, and they were 
not surprised when only two miles out of camp Lame- 
Bear turned suddenly about, faced the little band, let 
his blanket and gun fall, and asked one of the men to 
shoot him. After going about from one to the other 
begging to be shot and getting a negative response 
Lame-Bear turned, and, walking back to the forsaken 
camp, died there all alone. The others pressed on in 
a confused maze of thoughts. Death seemed every- 
where. It surrounded them, enveloped them, urged 
them on, and again urged them to fall down in the 
snow and give up. They had only made ten miles 
when a man named Jim Wise began to sing and 
shout ; he threw up his arms, looked up at the sky 
and sank down in the snow. Two Indians, members 
of the expedition, wrapped the dead man in his 
blanket and covered him with snow. 

They pressed on. 

The next day, Carver, one of the strongest men, a 
hunter known for his prowess, began to see visions. 
He stopped the company and began to describe things. 
He called to mind some of the strange scenes at the 
Indian Agency ; he saw the barbecue where the 
buffalo was roasted whole ; he said if the men would 
sit down in the snow the Indian cooks would attend 



IN THE MAZE 259 

with dishes of stewed venison, buffalo tongue, prairie- 
chicken, and many other things for a feast. 

Carver's hopeless condition had a deadly effect on 
some of the men, themselves hovering on the borders 
of collapse and delirium, but there was nothing to be 
done but wander on, the merest shadows of a once 
sturdy band. 

The next day Carver walked away into the deep 
snows and they saw him no more. 

The cold was greater now, although at first it did 
not feel so ; and the moon, sinking down behind the 
Rockies, in the west, left them in the middle of the 
night, with the stars, the snow, and the awful silence, 
fearing to sleep. When the morning dawned it 
brought a sky as blue as sapphire, a crisp, sharp air, in 
which nothing stirred, in which brilliant sunshine, 
withering cold, the blue above, and the white pall 
covering the earth, wrestled together in mocking 
rivalry, all Nature getting ready for the last scene. 

They had been marching but a short time when, 
right before them there loomed a mirage of churches 
and houses, pleasure-grounds, monuments, grave- 
yards, shimmering streams, waterfalls glistening in 
the sunlight, huge flowers, and white tents pitched on 
the shores of beautiful lakes, crowds of people 
appearing and disappearing, exactly as in a dream. 
Somehow they were gazing at a mirage. 

The Indian members of the band broke out in yells 
of exultation ; they shouted, threw up their hands, 
danced in an ecstasy of joy, for there before them, 
they said, lay the happy hunting-grounds of the 
spirit-world. 

Haler, who was in command of the little party, 

s 2 



260 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

brought the company to a halt and began a speech to 
the men. 

" Comrades," he said, " it ain't safe to go on like 
this. We've got to break up into small bands and 
scatter. . . . We've got to scatter. I don't expect to 
survive, but I want to ask you one last favour, don't 
shoot me, but wait till I die, then you can have my 
body." 

No sooner had he ceased speaking than they began 
to scatter in small bands, each in a different direction, 
hoping to meet a rescue party from Eed River 
direction. 

It was now only a question of how death would 
arrive : by being starved or by being frozen ; and 
some of the men did not object to the latter process, as 
it was painless and quickly over. 

The bands started. 

At first it was agreed that as soon as a man gave 
out the others should light a fire and leave him, but 
soon even this was found impossible. Some were 
beginning to get snow blind, others were deranged, 
others were distracted by superstitious notions of 
disaster whispered about by the Indians ; and all at 
once someone called to mind the scene of the wolves, 
the buffaloes, and bears in the great dance they had 
witnessed, and each man felt himself in a maze. 

One of the bands concluded to lie down in the snow 
and wait for the first man to die. The Indians in 
this party, after a cannibal feast, began to howl 
and dance, and the white men, now crazed with 
suffering, joined in the ghastly chorus of cries, groans, 
yells, and mumbling imprecations. The party assumed 
the aspect of a company of demons on the snow, made 



IN THE MAZE 261 

more ghastly by the powerful moonlight, and the 
death dance began over again, this time in its livid 
reality. Two of the men were breathing their last, 
others were about to fall ; some were describing 
circles, curves, in single or double file, stamping, 
turning about, jumping up and down, the Indians 
jabbering in an unknown dialect, their faces becoming 
more and more distorted. 

The orgy of death ended the following day with 
the arrival of Godey and his Mexicans, who took the 
survivors to Taos, where Fremont was waiting at the 
house of his old-time comrade, Kit Carson. 

Fremont had lost all his mules, the whole of his 
outfit, and nearly half his men. Nothing daunted, 
however, he went to work, organised a new expedi- 
tion, took a more southerly route and reached 
California in the spring of 1849 safe and sound. 
And I heard an old scout say : " There ain't a bullet 
can touch him ! That man's got what they call a 
charmed life." 

Certainly of all the public men of that time, who 
led adventuresome and romantic lives, Fremont was 
the most daring and the most original. 

The people of California sent him back to Washington 
as their Senator. 

♦ * * * * 

Many years after my St. Louis experiences I visited 
General Fremont at San Jos^, California. We talked 
much of the War days, and although an old man, he 
seemed like one who had never known trouble or 
disappointment, hale and serene. He passed away at 
last, peaceably, in his bed, after what seemed indeed 
a charmed life. 



CHAPTEE XXY 

geierson's raid 

Attached to General Grant's army was General 
Griersou's brigade, consisting of the Sixth and Seventh 
Illinois Cavalry and the Second lovp'a Cavalry. These 
men and boys, many of whom I had known on the 
prairies near the Log-House, were destined to engage 
in the most dangerous and thrilling cavalry raid of the 
four years' War. Of this raid Grant wrote : '' It was 
Grierson who first set the example of what might be 
done in the interior of the enemy's country without 
any base from which to draw supplies " ; and of whom 
Sheridan said : " Grierson was the first to teach us how 
to handle cavalry successfully." 

On the morning of April 17th, 1863,^ General 
Grierson set out from the town of La Grange, in 
Tennessee, at the head of 1,700 men, camping at night 
in the town of Eipley, in the State of Mississippi, after 
a ride of thirty miles. The next day a Eebel force 
was encountered in the act of destroying the bridge 
spanning the Tallahatchie Eiver, and after the Eebels 
were put to flight Grierson's men restored the bridge 
to its former condition. 

Sunday morning, April 19th, brought many and 
exciting adventures. Two companies, commanded by 
Captain Trafton, made a dash at New Albany and 

^ " Grierson's Raid," by J. S. C. Abbott. Harper's Magazine, 
February, 1865. 



GEIERSON'S RAID 268 

drove the Rebels out of the town, while two more 
companies plunged into the woods near by in search 
of horses. They soon brought back all they could 
lead, and by noon the brigade was again on the march, 
heading due south, thi'ough the heart of hostile 
Mississippi. 

On the next day Major Love, of the Second Iowa, 
was put in command of sixty men from each regiment 
with orders to retm-n to La Grange with the captured 
horses. The raiders advanced towards the south, and 
camped at night at Clear Springs after a ride of forty 
miles during the day. Early the next morning the 
march was resumed, and Colonel Hatch was detailed to 
break up the railroad near Okeola, but in the perilous 
attempt he encountered a large force of Kebels, 
received a serious wound, and his small body of troops 
were scattered. General Grierson pressed on, and 
after a hard ride of forty-five miles camped at a point 
eight miles south of Starkville. The news of Grierson's 
raid was spreading like wildfire throughout the 
State. The raiders came without warning, and when 
they left it was without any clue to theii' plans ; 
mystery enshrouded their every movement. As they 
proceeded south the danger of their position increased 
with every mile, yet General Grierson was determined 
to enter Baton Rouge at all costs, regardless of all 
obstacles. 

And now the telegraph wires had to be cut along 
the railroad from Macon. Two men volunteered to 
carry out this dangerous project, but in spite of their 
already tried bravery their courage failed them at the 
last moment. Everyone looked with dismay on a 
duty which even these trained veterans dared not 



264 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

undertake, and yet the work had to be done. At last 
a company of the Seventh Illinois was detailed to 
proceed to the work, with Captain Forbes command- 
ing. With thirty-five men he left the regiment on a 
ride of fifty miles through a country swarming with 
Eebels. No one expected to see Captain Forbes and 
his company again. They directed their course 
straight for the large town of Macon, but they were 
forced to turn aside and make for the town of Enter- 
prise on the railroad, and as they came in view of the 
place they were greeted with the sight of three thou- 
sand Eebel soldiers in the process of disembarking 
from a train of cars. Here Captain Forbes had a flash 
of inspiration. Without a moment's hesitation he rode 
forward, bearing a flag of truce, and demanded the 
instant surrender of the place to General Grierson, whom 
the Rebels supposed to be close in the rear with a for- 
midable force. The ruse succeeded. Colonel Goodwin, 
the Rebel commander, asked for an hour in which to 
consider the proposition. Captain Forbes complied 
with this request, and put this hour to the best use 
he knew how in a hard gallop toward the Pearl Eiver 
with his little band of thirty-five men ; and the three 
thousand scared Eebels in the town of Enterprise were 
not called on for a more definite reply to the demand 
for sui-render. 

In the meantime the Sixth Illinois and the remainder 
of the Seventh had made, during the day of the 
19th and the following night, the most extraordinary 
march of the whole raid. Coming to the town of 
Starkville, they destroyed a large Eebel shoe factory, 
committing a large quantity of leather and several 
thousand pairs of shoes and hats to the flames. After 



GRIERSON'S RAID 265 

this they suddenly found themselves surrounded by 
treacherous swamps and swollen creeks. The spring 
rains had overflowed every stream. The roads, of 
which they were utterly ignorant, were like rivers, in 
many places from three to four feet deep, and yet on 
they went during, the night of the 22nd, jaded 
men and jaded beasts, without a guide, without a 
signpost to direct them, for delay meant death. As 
they approached Pearl River, they met a small party 
of Rebel pickets working with superhuman energy, 
stripping up the planks of the bridge floor and hurling 
them into the waters below. The pickets being dis- 
posed of, the raiders pressed on into the night without 
a single halt except at the town of Decatur, where 
they captured and paroled seventy-five prisoners, 
destroyed two warehouses full of commissary stores, 
four loads of ammunition, burned the railroad bridges 
and trestle work, and captured two trains of cars and 
two locomotives. 

At sunrise on the 29th General Grierson's band 
found themselves on the outskirts of Brookhaven. 
Here they burned the depot of the New Orleans and 
Jackson railroad, their cars and bridges, and paroled 
two hundred prisoners. The townspeople were panic- 
stricken until they found that all private property 
was respected, when they became profuse iu their 
hospitality and the hope that the Union would soon be 
restored. 

General Grierson wrote : " I could have brought 
away a thousand men with me, men whom I found 
hiding in the swamps and the forests, where they had 
been hunted like wild beasts by the conscript officers 
with bloodhounds." 



266 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

At last, covered with dust, haggard, and in rags, 
with a wild fire of delight and pride in their eyes, on 
May 2nd, they galloped into the streets of Baton 
Eonge. The story of their incredible adventures ran 
with the echo of their horses' hoofs. The excitement 
became indescribable. ]S"othing like it had been 
known duiing the War. Less than two thousand men 
had ridden through the State of Mississippi, encounter- 
ing every conceivable danger, every known hardship, 
with thousands of Eebels at their heels. 

During the last thirty hours of the raid the intrepid 
band rode eighty miles, engaged in three skirmishes, 
destroyed large quantities of military stores, burned 
bridges, swam one river, took forty-two prisoners, and 
all without a single halt and without food. 

In this raid General Grierson rode eight hundred 
miles, with no guides except rude country maps and a 
pocket compass, relying the whole of the way on the 
country for forage and provisions. The raiders had 
cut three railroads, burned nine bridges, destroyed 
two locomotives and nearly two hundred cars, broken 
up three Eebel camps, captured and paroled one 
thousand prisoners, and brought into Baton Eouge 
with them twelve hundred captured horses. 

For twenty -five years subsequent to the Civil War 
General Grierson had to deal with the most savage 
Indian tribes on the wild plains along the borders of 
Mexico, and he so conciliated their confidence that 
from hostile savages they became his friends. After 
being made military commander of that vast territory 
lying between New Mexico and the Pacific Ocean, 
which includes Arizona and Southern California, 
General Grierson retired in his old age to Jacksonville, 



GRIEKSON'S RAID 267 

Illinois, in the heart of Lincoln's country, the town 
from which he went forth to the Civil War as Colonel 
of the Sixth Illinois Cavalry, where he lives a tranquil 
life, as if he had never known thirty years' militaiy 
service of the most dangerous description. 

The last time I saw him was at a reception I gave 
in his honour dui'ing one of my last sojourns in 
America. He was still in active service and came to 
the reception accompanied by his military staff. 

General Grierson, like General Fremont, seemed to 
possess a charmed life. Shot at scores of times, I 
believe he never once received a wound, and now, past 
the age of eighty, is still in good health. 



CHAPTER XXVI 

THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

One of my favourite modes of passing idle time was 
on the levee watching the incoming and outgoing 
boats. They arrived and departed by scores, for this 
was the golden age of adventure in the Mississippi 
Valley. 

From the slumbering solitude of Minnesota the 
mighty stream had drifted for ages before a white 
man's canoe was seen upon its surface. Then came 
the shriek of iron whistles, the swirl of puffing 
machinery, the confusion and clashing of hordes of 
adventuresome settlers, ushering in a new era and a 
new world. 

The departure of a favourite boat during the ante- 
helium days made up a picture for the memory of a 
lifetime. Here came hunters and trappers from the 
western and northern wilds, men with rifles, pistols, 
weapons with blades like butcher-knives, fashionably 
dressed planters returning South, men resembling 
haK-breeds, dark, quick-tempered desperadoes, jovial 
comrades, professional gamblers, negroes, mulattos, 
octoroons. 

Indeed, in the sight of certain persons a Mississippi 
steamboat was a puffing nightmare of profanity and 
wickedness, while to the reckless adventurer it meant 
increased activity, a more expansive feeling of life 
and liberty. Freed from the trammels of sheriff and 



THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 269 

bloodhounds, desperadoes from every State saw in it a 
floating paradise of luxury and licence. Once on the 
bosom of the great river responsibility and worry 
were forgotten, and the still, small imps of the 
imagination began to rise with the ciu'ling smoke 
from the chimney-stacks and the rolling swell from 
the paddle-wheels. The steamboat was a world in 
itself, unlike anything ever seen or dreamed of — a 
floating hotel at whose tables friends and foes, 
preachers and infidels, card-sharpers and merchants, 
slave-drivers and Abolitionists, planters, politicians, 
and cut-throats rubbed shoulders and ate together. 
It served as railway, stage-coach, and tavern ; it had 
the freedom of the backwoods and the dolce far niente 
of the log-cabin, while skilled negro cooks served up 
corn-bread that melted in the mouth and caused many 
a passenger to compare it with the coarse hominy and 
gritty corn-meal of their own rough and primitive 
homes. Little wonder that the ordinary traveller 
found the Mississippi boat a haven of rest ; that after 
such meals, after the French coffee or the Keutucky 
whisky, they would sit in armchairs on the deck, 
with their feet extended on the railing, their heads 
thrown back, and puff wreaths of odorous smoke from 
cigars made in Havana, think of things imtil now 
unthinkable, and dream of wonders to come, while the 
boat floated down with the current through balmy 
airs, over a surface that touched the high-water mark 
of two lonely and romantic shores. It was no wonder 
that at meal-time danger was a thing that no one 
stopped to consider, in spite of the fact that the steam- 
boat of those days resembled nothing so much as an 
architectural tinder-box, ready to disappear in a 



270 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

sudden blaze, sink to the bottom by striking a snag, 
or go to pieces by an explosion. 

Fashionable pleasure parties came and went from 
and to the far South, and on the broad expanse of the 
hurricane deck, under the opal lights of Southern 
skies, beautiful and gi-acefully robed Creoles lent to 
the aerial promenade something serenely antique and 
remote, and as the boat swept majestically past the 
shores of Louisiana soft airs, wafted from bowers of 
orange blossoms, fanned the faces of a people without 
a care, who lived by the day, whose lives seemed a 
tranquil and luxurious dream. 

Down in the "ladies' cabin," at the end of the 
boat, there were evenings when the place resembled 
some quaintly designed drawing-room in a fantastic 
country house, and on certain occasions there would 
be music and dancing. 

A steamboat had three separate worlds. There was 
the boiler-deck, the nethermost part, what timid minds 
might call the inferno, peopled by negro deck-hands, 
slaves, and "poor white trash," from which strange, 
broken echoes rose and fell, snatches of songs blown 
up on the night winds, mingling with the muffled din 
of slamming furnace doors, spitting 'scape pipes, and 
whirling paddle-wheels. Then came the saloon deck, 
peopled by the men of all social grades travelling 
" first-class " ; lastly, the exclusive portion set apart 
for ladies. 

In warm weather a roaring trade was done at the 
bar, which glittered with cut-glass, crystal decanters, 
silver mirrors, bottles arrayed to attract the eye 
and tempt the individual taste; and the "bar- 
keeper," ablaze with diamond studs and breast pin, 



THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 271 

condescended, with cool and deliberate demeanour, to 
serve his customers who, at certain moments, stood 
around the counter two rows deep. That part of the 
saloon near the bar was usually occupied by gamblers 
engaged in playing for high stakes, and around the 
tables here scenes of wild and tragic excitement were 
often enacted. 

One day, at the beginning of the war, while standing 
on the levee close to the water's edge, I heard some 
one shout : '' Hello there, Bub ! " 

I looked up and saw a tall, angular young man, 
wearing the uniform of the Union Volunteers. He 
was looking down at me from the deck of the Citi/ of 
Alton, where he stood with other volunteers in blue. 

" What are you doing here ? " he shouted. 

I looked hard at him for some moments before I 
recognised a yoimg man I had known in Alton, and 
hardly had I done so when a man standing beside him 
shouted: "Say, Bub, don't you want to come along 
with us ? " 

To my great astonishment, it was Azariah James, 
who was also a volunteer. The preacher from the 
prairies and his companions in arms were about to 
enter the strife ; talk and preaching were to be put 
aside for action. 

The boat was crowded with soldiers, young men 
from the country round about the Log-House and the 
district about Jacksonville. There must have been, 
at that moment, on the Citf/ of Alton, a dozen men 
and boys I had known in Hlinois, Here they 
were, coming down in boatloads from the prairies, 
from the cornfields, from the meeting-houses, from 
the backwoods. In thi-ee months' time all these 



272 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

meek-mannered, awkward young men would be turned 
into weather-beaten soldiers, and in the short space of 
six months into hard and toughened fighters. Things 
had changed, and things would change again, as in a 
night, and to many on this boat, and other boats here 
on the levee, life would soon cease to pass as in a 
pleasant dream and would become a long nightmare 
of dangers and terrors inconceivable. 

In the winter of 1862 a great fleet of steamboats 
set out from St, Louis to Memphis, Tennessee, to 
co-operate in General Grant's surprise movement 
against Yicksburg, the Eebel stronghold on the 
Mississippi. I stood for hours gazing in admiration 
at the different boats under Government orders to 
proceed to the South. There was the beautiful Die 
Vernon, destined to embark the Third Kentucky 
Eegiment at Memphis; there was the Des Arc, 
wrapped, as it seemed to me, in an aura of glory, for the 
officers and escort of General Smith's First Division ; 
there was the City of Alton for two Ohio Regiments ; 
the trim, light-going Hiawatha ; the Spread Eagle, 
skimming the water like a bird, loaded with the One 
Hundred and Twenty-seventh Illinois ; the Sucker State, 
with her characteristic smoke-stacks, suggesting to me 
the wilderness and prairie ; there was the stately Dakota, 
slightly battered about the paddle-box ; the powerful 
City of Memphis, whose very name called up delightful 
souvenirs of the sunny South, embarking two batteries 
of Missouri Artillery and the Eighth Regiment, with a 
section of Parrott guns ; and the Omaha, the Sioux 
City, the Indiana; the handsome Westmoreland, for 
Colonel Stuart's Fifty -fifth Illinois from Benton Bar- 
racks ; the Adriatic, the Gladiator, the Isabella, the 



\\ 



THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 273 

Polar Star, superb among the galaxy of river meteors ; 
and twenty-five more of like build and swiftness. 

What a change had come over the river ! No more 
pleasure trips, no more going and coming for the mere 
love of travel and change. Most of these boats had 
been, and would be again, loaded with soldiers sound 
in wind and limb going dovni stream to the front, 
returning with wounded or fever-stricken invalids, or 
whole troops of Rebel prisoners. The ladies' cabin, 
the hurricane deck, the boiler deck, saloon, all were 
full of soldiers ; nobody thought of distinctions, there 
were no vacant spots, and the pilot-house perched on 
the Texas rose clear and white from a sea of soldiers, 
like a great bird's nest at the top of a forest of animate 
trunks, and the steps, the railings, the promenade, the 
rim all round the skylights of the roof, were dotted 
and hung with men in blue uniforms, standing, sitting, 
lolling, lying down, a knapsack for pillow, chewing 
tobacco or eating oranges, gazing at the people below, 
some joking callously, some with pensive faces, home- 
sick already, others in the throes of unconquerable 
agitation, others longing for the fray, while towering 
smoke-stacks belched forth rolling pillars of black 
smoke that spread in trailing clouds far over the 
water. 

The river front was the centre of bustle, noise, and 
excitement. If the town itself seemed asleep, the 
long, wide, sloping levee was all life, with hundreds 
of drays, mules, negroes, deck-hands, some of them 
idle, but many more working as they had never worked, 
shouting, cursing, the hoarse voices of mates rising 
above the general din and arriving across the cobble 
stones like the ravings of men in delirium, while the 

v.s. T 



274 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

soldiers on the steamboats contemplated the movement 
and uproar going on before them with the mien of so 
many statues in blue. Groups of idle negroes looked 
on bewildered, expressing the opinions of whites, 
picked up here and there. Some of them were free 
men and they could do as they pleased. 

" Ketch me on one o' dem boats ! " remarked a 
burly black ; "I done bin down dar an' I know w'at 
dey gwine do. Dey ain't gwine down dar fer te 'joy 
deyself lak at a pic-nic ; dey gwine down te Kaintuck 
an' Yicksburg te play de 'possum an' de coon. Mistah 
'Possum he done absquatulate hissef in a big hole by 
de ribber-bankj an' by-an'-by 'long come Mistah Coon 
fum St. Louis on one er dem boats, an' he invite de 
'possum out, but de 'possum he say 'No, sah!' he declah 
he gwine ter stay right whar he am. De coon 'monstrate 
wid de 'possum but de 'possum run roun' by de back 
do', come up ober de bank an' 'gin te let fly at Mist' 
Coon settin' dar on de boat in de cool ob de ebenin'. 
Dat make de coon ask hissef whar all de bumble-bees 
an' yaller hornets come from — ziz, ziz, boom, whiz ! 
it gittin' stingin' hot on Mistah Coon's boat ; de bullets 
dey fallin' lak hail, one man drop, den nudder, an' 
nudder ; Mist' Coon 'low dar ain't no time fer te tarry, 
he ring de bell fer de pilot, he ring de bell fer de 
engineer, he shout fer de fust mate, de mate 'gin te 
cuss an' howl — de boat let loose fum de levee. No, sah! 
it ain't good fer de coon's health te come 'sturbin' de 
'possum in his hole down dar ; dis niggah gwine stay 
right whar he am." 

The spring of 1863 was a period of grave suspense 
in St. Louis. Would Grant succeed in taking 
Yicksburg ? 



THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 275 

Ou the night of April IGth, a long line of dark 
objects could be distinguished bearing down stream 
toward the redoubtable Rebel batteries of Vicksburg. 
Admiral Porter headed the line in the gunboat Benton^ 
followed by the Tuscumbia, so far beneath the surface 
that her black iron sides were almost invisible ; then, 
a little to the right of the ironclad fleet, and hugging 
the opposite shore as much as safety would permit, 
came the steamboats with ten huge barges in tow 
laden with corn, freight, and provisions. Would they 
succeed in running the batteries in the dark ? Would 
the crew of the steamboats stick to their posts ? 
Never, even to the eyes of the most hardened pilot, 
had the moving gulf of water appeared so menacing, 
so black, so hungry for victims. The mighty stream, 
as the fleet approached Vicksburg, never seemed so 
wrapped in silence as now, owing to the stillness of 
the crews and the absence of all unnecessary noise. 
All was going well. The Benton was now opposite 
the Forts. All at once an awful sound smote the ears 
of the men on the boats. The Eebel batteries had 
opened fire. A thunderous roar went up from the 
Benton, whose guns were all ready and only waiting 
for such a signal. The time had arrived for the test- 
ing of nerves, the trial of courage, the last ordeal of 
shock and terror. 

The batteries of the Fort are now belching forth shot 
that tear across the ironclads with deadly impact, skim- 
ming along the surface with a sickening splash so near 
as to make death fairly palpable. The Benton has 
escaped ; she is now beyond the fire range ; but here 
comes the ironclad Tuscumbia, now, in her turn, within 
the range of fire. The steamboat Forest Queen is 



276 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

there, too, trying to pass with the TuscumUa as 
an escort. Something bursts just above the surface 
of the water, driving steel splinters and bits of iron 
in every direction. It is the first bomb from the 
Eebel mortars. One of the steam pipes of the Forest 
Queen is gone ; a moment more, and a ball rips 
through the hull ; quick, the TuscumUa takes the 
damaged boat in tow, and with all steam on, heads 
for the bank. The air is streaked with whirling 
flashes from the Yicksburg mortars, bombs burst in 
mid- air, they descend in a hail of sparks and fire, they 
burst in the water, on the decks, around the pilot- 
houses; ears are deafened with the roar of Parrott 
guns, it is impossible to hear the officers' commands ; 
the steamboats rush past with all haste, for a new 
terror has come. The river is becoming a living 
inferno. Light is spreading over the town of Vicks- 
burg, where houses are on fire, houses are ablaze on 
the opposite shore ; waves of light rise and fall, and 
rise again in different places ; a cloud of sparks are 
shooting up from the steamboat Henry Clay in mid- 
stream ; the black waters of the Mississippi begin to 
shimmer with a ghastly glow, the flames lap the boat 
with magical swiftness ; the river is bathed in an awful 
yellow light, through which the bursting shells 
descend in arches of fire, disclosing the crew of the 
Henry Clay making frantic efforts to escape from 
the burning hulk. Men are going to the bottom ; 
her pilot, who is floating on a piece of wi'eck, is 
picked up by General Sherman, who is there with 
a yawl, while hard by the lucky Silver Wave skims 
along out of the danger zone, escaping with a mere 
scratch. 



THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 277 

On the Henry Clay were two boys whom I knew in 
Alton, and in the yawl with Sherman was Azariah 
James and another volunteer we had known in Illinois. 

On the 4th of July Vicksburg capitulated, and the 
Mississippi became once more free to navigation. 

In this same month I went on a visit to the family 
of the Eeverend Samuel Smith, a Presbyterian minister 
at Alton, and there, on the second day after my arrival, 
as I was roaming about the levee, I saw a steamboat 
arrive and a score of passengers come ashore. Among 
them was a man who was hardly able to walk and who 
stopped to look about him as if in search of someone. 
In a few moments a woman came running down to 
meet him. The man was Elihu Gest, the Load- 
Bearer, so changed by illness that at first I did not 
know him. He had been at the front with an 
ambulance corps, and, later, acting as nurse in the 
Overton Military Hospital at Memphis. He was now 
" invalided home," and his wife had come to meet him 
with a covered wagon. 

When I returned to St. Louis I found my father 
getting ready to move with the family to Niagara 
Falls. We left Missouri in August, and arrived at 
the celebrated watering-place at the height of a 
brilliant season, with all the great hotels full, with 
balls two or three times a week at the Cataract House 
and the International Hotel, so far removed from the 
War that it seemed as if such a thing was not known. 
And yet, even here, on the borders of Canada, there 
was hardly a home that did not have a friend or a 
relative at the front. 

For me, at least, the change from the hot city on 
the Mississippi to the cool breezes wafted up from the 



278 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 

Eapids and the surging cataract was almost too good 
to be true ; and for more than a year, during our stay- 
in that wonderful spot, I wandered about free at all 
hours, enjoying to the full this new revelation of the 
beauty of I^atui'e. 

So goes the world, for " Time and the hour runs 
through the roughest day." 



THE END. 



BRAPBUEY, AONF.W, it CO. l,V., LONDON AND TONBKUiOE 



12 im: 




LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




016 095 065 1 



